CHAPTER 16: Marrow Cleansing
“Uh… that is…”
Chukang glanced around nervously, mumbling vaguely.
Jin Muhon simply gazed down at him.
A faint mist rippled eerily. For some reason, Chukang felt like one wrong word would get him devoured.
“Speak.”
Chukang bowed his head deeply.
“The… the steward took a few of his followers and bolted! We’ll send a pursuit team right away!”
Jin Muhon’s eyebrow twitched.
“Steward—you mean the brainiac?”
“Brainiac… yes.”
Jin Muhon clamped his mouth shut.
He’d half-expected it, but why did all the smart ones act the same way?
Suddenly, the Demonic Cult’s strategist came to mind.
That bastard must’ve helped Cheon Gunak too.
Smart guys were best dealt with by lopping off their heads on sight.
“Forget it. His destination’s obvious.”
“Pardon? You knew?”
Chukang’s eyes went wide.
No matter how skilled in martial arts, he’d only glimpsed the steward yesterday—how could he know where he’d gone?
But Jin Muhon spoke as if it were the most natural thing.
“He headed for the Iron Blood Society. That’s the only way he’ll squeeze out even a little ransom.”
“Ah!”
Chukang and the Ghost Soul Sect disciples’ eyes bulged.
Why hadn’t they thought of that?
The steward was exactly the type to pull something like that.
“That son of a bitch! I never liked him from the start!”
“Sect Leader. I didn’t like the steward either.”
“Shut it!”
“Aigoo. Why so harsh? Can’t I speak now?”
“What the fuck!”
Thud—
Jin Muhon stomped lightly.
The ground trembled, and mist surged up with a whoosh.
“Eek!”
“Gah!”
The Ghost Soul Sect disciples staggered, struggling to keep balance. Some collapsed onto their asses, legs giving out.
Just one casual stomp, and this kind of power.
Chukang paled, stealing glances at Jin Muhon.
‘In just one day… he’s grown even stronger!’
Jin Muhon looked down at Chukang with impassive eyes.
“He’s a dead man anyway. Don’t worry about it.”
“Yes! Then what should we do next?”
Meeting Jin Muhon’s gaze, Chukang felt loyalty welling up from the depths of his heart.
It was the only way… to survive.
Meanwhile, the Ghost Soul Sect disciples’ eyes sparkled with anticipation.
The man who’d terrified them as an enemy was now on their side.
He was still scary as hell, but the strongest ally in the world.
No more fear of the Iron Blood Society.
“I’ll write a letter. Send it to the Iron Blood Society leader.”
“Understood! We’ll dispatch it immediately!”
“Rest up then. Chukang, take good care of your father.”
“Yes! We’ve already called in Yichang’s top physician!”
“Good.”
Jin Muhon nodded and rose from the grand seat.
Everyone straightened and bowed.
As he headed to his quarters to write the letter, Jin Muhon felt like he’d forgotten something.
‘Hm… what is it?’
He paused, and Chukang asked cautiously.
“Family Head. Is something wrong?”
Jin Muhon turned to him.
A face desperately trying to curry favor.
Seeing Chukang’s mug jogged his memory.
“Chukang.”
“Yes, Family Head!”
“Where’s the one-armed bastard right now?”
“…Pardon?”
Chukang blinked.
***
Near the Yangtze River stood a bamboo grove with a single clinic.
Cheongsu Clinic.
Rumored to be the most skilled in Yichang, it had stood in the grove even before Chukang was born.
“Hm. This the place?”
Jin Muhon stopped at the grove’s entrance, scanning the surroundings.
Bamboo shoots stretched endlessly toward the sky along the river. Sunlight poured through the dense stalks, creating a mystical atmosphere, while cool winds blew from the Yangtze.
Swishhh. Swishhh. Swishhh.
The bamboo rustled strangely in the wind, like crashing waves.
The air, mixed with grass and water scents, felt crisp and refreshing.
“Strange spot.”
Jin Muhon stared down the narrow path winding through the bamboo.
Who’d even find a clinic here without prior knowledge?
“Herbalist quacks.”
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
As he stepped inside, memories of the Demonic Cult’s physicians surfaced.
Eccentric bastards who treated bodies like tools.
Just thinking of them soured his mood.
Hisssss.
Red mist trailed low behind his steps.
Animals fleeing with flutters, patients breathing steadily under nurses’ care, and a suspicious group approaching from the west.
All the grove’s details flowed unfiltered into Jin Muhon’s mind.
‘Three of them, huh.’
No real killing intent from the shady bunch.
No reason to act yet, so he pushed their presence aside and reached the Cheongsu Clinic.
“Ho!”
A wide clearing opened in the bamboo’s heart.
At its center, an old mansion incongruous with the grove, walled in.
Clearly ancient.
Tiles mossy and greenish, walls patched in spots.
Worn, but well-maintained.
“Cheongsu Clinic. Found it.”
Jin Muhon read the sign over the gate aloud.
A young nurse passing inside the open gate stopped and looked his way.
“Here for treatment?”
Her face bright despite the tough job, voice clear and pleasant.
Jin Muhon nodded as he crossed the threshold.
“Yes.”
“Where does it hurt?”
She eyed him worriedly.
He shook his head.
“Visiting a friend who’s being treated.”
“Ah! I see! May I have your name?”
“One-Ar… er.”
Jin Muhon trailed off.
He couldn’t recall the one-armed guy’s name, and he surely hadn’t given it here.
“A man badly hurt yesterday.”
“Ah! You mean Dokbi! This way!”
The nurse’s eyes sparkled as she gestured inside.
Jin Muhon tilted his head.
“Dokbi?”
“Yes. That’s what his companions called him.”
“……”
Dokbi.
One arm, so “Poison Arm”? Or “Tough Bastard”?
Ghost Soul Sect guys must’ve named him that. Whatever— the fool had a nickname now.
Imagining the slack-jawed Oepari, Jin Muhon itched to smack him.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
The nurse led toward the rear garden.
Unlike the bamboo-only exterior, vibrant flowers bloomed here.
Red, yellow, white.
They danced in the breeze.
While Jin Muhon watched butterflies flit among them, she stopped before a thatched hut in the garden.
“Dokbi’s inside.”
“How’s he doing?”
“I’ll fetch the physician. Ask him for details.”
“Got it.”
She bowed with a soft smile and hurried off.
Jin Muhon watched her go until she vanished.
His gaze low—on her feet.
‘She’s trained in martial arts.’
Many physicians studied it, as it involved the body.
He nodded indifferently and opened the hut door.
Creeeak.
Rusty hinges screamed.
“Ugh!”
The door unleashed a wave: thick herbal stench, blood, and days-old body odor from the unwashed Oepari.
Jin Muhon wrinkled his nose, nearly gagging.
“What a stink.”
The hut was surprisingly tidy.
No clutter, clean walls and ceiling, fresh bedding.
The dirtiest thing? Oepari, bandaged head to toe on the bed.
“Snore! Puffff… Snore! Puffff…”
Filthy bastard snoring away contentedly.
“Looks like he’ll live.”
True injury meant limbs severed, guts spilling—still swinging a sword.
That was the demonic path.
Laid up over this?
“Hey. Wake up. Hey.”
Jin Muhon prodded him with his foot.
“Mm…”
Oepari just rolled over, eyes shut.
“Oh? Playing dead, huh?”
Jin Muhon smirked, plopping onto the bed edge.
He gripped Oepari’s wrist, channeling a bit of qi.
“Let’s see if you hold out.”
“Ugh…”
Oepari grimaced, squirming.
Sweat beaded on his forehead.
Jin Muhon chuckled, pushing harder.
“Gaaah…”
Oepari’s mouth gaped in a groan.
“Open your eyes n—hm?”
Something was off.
‘What the…?’
Jin Muhon’s face hardened as he probed Oepari’s meridians carefully.
“Gack! Hack!”
Oepari choked, but Jin Muhon ignored it.
His unflappable expression shifted to surprise.
‘What is this?’
A lowlife unorthodox thug, never properly trained.
Over twenty, meridians should be clogged solid.
Yet the qi flowed smoothly.
‘Impossible!’
He checked again, meticulously tracing the paths.
Same result.
Oepari’s blocked meridians were open.
‘No way… marrow cleansing?’
Ridiculous.
What lunatic physician would perform marrow cleansing for free?
It unblocked meridians, priming the body for martial arts.
Prestigious sects did it for heirs—with rare herbs and masters assisting qi.
An unknown doctor pulling it off overnight?
Absurd.
“Oh my! What are you doing to the patient?!”
“…?”
A young woman’s voice came from behind.