Chapter 100
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 100
Chapter Title: A Family-Like Clan (1)
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The full truth of the kidnapping incident has come to light: the mastermind was Extreme Killer Yi Yong.
Yi Yong used women possessing pure yin energy as sacrificial vessels to cultivate his unique martial arts.
The age-grouped kidnappings were a ruse to conceal his techniques.
Heavenly Divine Spear Great Hero Guo Yunbaek has passed judgment on Yi Yong's atrocities.
Guo Yunbaek mourned the noble sacrifices of the Beggar's Sect and Wudang Sect in punishing evil, while extending condolences to the unavoidable victims.
With Extreme Killer Yi Yong's death, the entire kidnapping saga was exposed, resolved through the dedication of the Heavenly Divine Spear and the martial artists.
The Beggar's Sect publicized the incident on a grand scale, lavishly praising the cooperation shown by the Heavenly Divine Spear and Wudang Sect.
It stirred up quite a commotion for a time.
No one could have imagined that Yi Yong, who had vanished fifteen years prior, had been perpetrating such heinous crimes. Some of the kidnappings over the years might even have involved him.
The victims cursed and resented Extreme Killer Yi Yong. Fortunately, justice endures. After a long pursuit, they finally tracked him down and brought him to account.
It was justice realized through the united hearts of the Beggar's Sect, Wudang Sect, and Heavenly Divine Spear. The rumors spread like wildfire, elevating the prestige of the Beggar's Sect, Wudang Sect, and Heavenly Divine Spear.
Crunch!
Mukam's face, usually radiating the refined dignity of a Hansol Academy scholar, twisted into something akin to a snarling demon. For a man who always made rational judgments, accepting this failure was excruciating.
'To fall for such a pathetic ploy! That damned monk! If you'd still been alive, you'd have died by my hand.'
The root of the failure was that monk. He'd shown talent in illusions, so they'd left him be—only for it to derail the acquisition of sacrificial vessels needed for forging the legion.
'Who'd have thought Extreme Killer would die.'
Extreme Killer, one of the Seven Killers, should have more than made up for the monk's blunder. Considering the caliber of the warriors dispatched by the Beggar's Sect and Wudang Sect, it was only natural. The Heavenly Divine Spear's involvement had been unforeseen, but Extreme Killer, empowered by a demonic spirit, should have outmatched flesh-and-blood foes.
'If only the Nangong Clan matter had succeeded.'
The Beggar's Sect claimed they'd been tracking him for ages—it was all nonsense. Without the monk leaving traces, there'd have been no trail from the start. Yet their motive for spreading these rumors was obvious.
'Filthy beggars.'
It reeked of an intent to flaunt their intelligence network. Just look at how they'd dragged Wudang Sect into it—the Beggar's Sect's scheming was plain as day.
'At least that's some small mercy.'
The Beggar's Sect seemed inclined to wrap things up here. In terms of casualties alone, the operation was a failure in all but name.
'But what the hell is this guy's deal?'
There was another one.
Incredibly, this time too. It was dubious whether he was deliberately intervening every time. He'd gone searching after hearing about the girls who'd infiltrated Wudang as lay disciples.
'Should I kill him?'
The impulse to slaughter him before even pondering it surged up. But killing him wouldn't be easy. He meshed well with the Beggar's Sect, and his martial prowess was no joke. Making a move risked drawing their attention.
'First things first—the client.'
Failures were piling up. One more, and the main sect wouldn't let it slide.
Shudder!
Fear flickered in Mukam's eyes, unshakable in most crises. The sect's punishments didn't end with mere death.
"You're Na Reung, huh?"
"Didn't know?"
Luk Chil had scoured afar for Na Reung despite Thousand-Face Fox being right beside him—he'd become a laughingstock, in the crudest terms. Before entering Sichuan Province, Hong Mu-gae had thrashed him and chewed him out.
Something about how he was too embarrassed to show his face because of him.
'How's that my fault?!'
He hadn't known either.
Beating people like some uncultured brute! Even in this beggar-ridden world, the living realm was better, he'd said. It was all for survival, and he'd taken the beating himself. He knew better than anyone how the beaten felt.
"How's my transformation art? Heh heh heh heh."
"You bastard, rubbing it in again!"
"Should've kept your eyes peeled then."
"Let's die today!"
With his identity exposed, Na Reung teased Luk Chil instead. Back then, he'd have bolted in shock, but now Na Reung had given up too.
Since when had his master ever been in his right mind?
Once he let go, it actually felt freeing.
Mythic Demon Spirit Armor or whatever nonsense.
Paradise wasn't far off.
He yearned to find it quick and sever this maddening bond. But whether he could was anyone's guess. His master lied like he breathed, martial might aside.
"Halt right there!"
"Catch me if you can."
Na Reung and Luk Chil were confident in their footwork, darting erratically out of Mujin's sight.
The squabble of those middling sorts was entertaining to watch. A real gap in skill made for anticlimactic ends.
Still, if they kept it up, it'd grate on the nerves.
"Cheol Ho, don't you dare turn out like those two."
"I'll keep that in mind, Master!"
Na Reung and Luk Chil, who'd been trading blows with fancy footwork, froze in place.
That remark had badly bruised their pride.
Even setting aside Mujin, it felt like that punk was looking down on them too.
"If you're so wronged, prove it. Win, and I'll give you a drop of Public Clarity Oil."
……Hmph!
Na Reung and Luk Chil had no retort. They felt the talent gap down to their bones. Cheol Ho wasn't just some greenhorn with a weathered face. He'd grown leaps and bounds lately. His feats against Extreme Killer's assassin blades had been annoyingly brilliant.
"Even together you're scared? That'd disappoint me."
"We can team up?"
"Oh? You were gonna come at me one by one? I'm not that heartless."
"……Thank you!"
Despite Mujin's graciousness, Na Reung and Luk Chil felt sour. They wouldn't accept that kind of "mercy" even in death. Honestly, it felt more like bait than aid—who could tell?
"You can do it, right?"
"Of course, Master."
Na Reung and Luk Chil scowled at Cheol Ho's resolve. Cocky brat—win once and he thought he was hot stuff.
Time to face righteous combined arts and snap out of it.
"Justice lives on."
"We'll teach you manners and discipline!"
They sure had firm values.
A union of the Beggar's Sect's love for grand causes and the Yangshang Army's obsession with rank. Either way, Public Clarity Oil's allure was immense.
Hummm!
Cheol Ho's body swelled as he unleashed Iron Blood Lion Art, exuding a heat-haze aura.
Gasp!
Na Reung and Luk Chil flinched at his ferocious presence. This punk was leagues beyond when he'd slain Extreme Killer's hound. Was such a talent gap even fair? It made them want to curse the heavens.
'I used to be hot shit once!'
'Am I doomed to be swept away by the Yangtze's waves like this?!'
Cheol Ho charged with overwhelming momentum, cutting off escape routes.
Boom!
It was Iron Wheel Charge, a variant of cavalry assault tactics.
Na Reung and Luk Chil, hastily defending, paled in terror. A split-second delay, and that single blow might've ended them.
Drip, drip!
Cold sweat poured from Na Reung and Luk Chil. Never underestimate a rookie. He was a monster through and through. But surrender wasn't an option. Inferiority exploded into defiance.
'Fine, you die, then I die!'
Cheol Ho's brutal clash with the two inferiority complexes lasted an unexpected hour. At eight stars in Iron Blood Lion Art, Cheol Ho surpassed them in pure martial skill.
Yet Na Reung and Luk Chil, seasoned by far more jianghu meals, wielded their petty tenacity relentlessly. It was a sordid synergy of offense and defense Cheol Ho had never faced.
Splat!
Exhausted and sprawled, Na Reung and Luk Chil glared at the steadfast Cheol Ho, trembling with rage. He should've collapsed by all rights—the reality was brutal.
Huff, huff!
Cheol Ho wasn't unscathed either. He'd only clinched victory with his final technique. Any lapse in focus, and it'd have gone the other way.
Still, he'd learned plenty.
Cheol Ho bowed politely to offer thanks.
"Our Cheol Ho's fated to live alone forever. Sparring those losers for a whole hour. Tsk tsk tsk."
"Next time, I can end it quicker!"
Na Reung and Luk Chil ground their teeth at Cheol Ho's blazing determination, just as they'd begun to concede. One win, and the brat was underestimating them. Time to show him an adult's wrath.
Heh heh.
Mujin savored the discord.
A martial artist without rivalry stagnates. They needed motivation to grow stronger. The more Na Reung and Luk Chil's envy peaked, the more it spurred Cheol Ho.
"How long you gonna lie there?!"
"The Public Clarity Oil is urgen—gah!"
Playing dead, are we?
Mujin didn't bother checking if it was genuine. He readied True Step for any who didn't rise—sending them straight to the afterlife.
Crack!
The force from True Step split the ground in two. The yawning chasm was pitch black.
'Brute!'
Mujin arrived at Chengdu, Sichuan Province's capital.
En route, he'd gleaned key faction intel from Luk Chil. Luk Chil had stopped by a Beggar's Sect branch altar to verify info and relay it to Mujin.
'Can't let myself get dragged around like before.'
-You weren't thinking, sure. But did you have to blind him?
'He's reliable.'
-Not the time for that after blinding him.
'I didn't take his left eye.'
Mujin preferred avoiding Hong Mu-gae. In the future, the man stirred up incidents nonstop, clashing endlessly with the Demonic Cult of the Demon God. Mujin had barely survived countless near-deaths. Hong Mu-gae preached it was for the martial world, but to those on the receiving end, he was insufferable.
Count his blessings it ended with one eye.
Even after losing it, Hong Mu-gae toiled for the martial world's safety. His methods grated, but his greater purpose rang true.
'Time that beggar sweated on the front lines.'
-So it was a grudge.
'Killing two birds.'
-Nobly done, uncharacteristically.
Grudges aside, Hong Mu-gae had integrity. That's why Mujin gave him a shot at division leader over elder. If he became branch master later, it'd pay off. In return, gallivanting for the martial world's sake was par for the course.
Now Mujin needed to watch his surroundings.
He required ties with a top intel group. Quick action warded off headaches.
So he'd incurred a debt.
Handle this right, and Hong Mu-gae could vault to next branch master heir. From blind elder to this—a fate rewritten.
Chengdu boasted history as the Shu Han capital from the Three Kingdoms era. The city teemed with diverse ethnicities. Bordering Qinghai, Yunnan, and Xizang, cultures had blended here over time.
Mixed bloodlines abounded amid the throngs. Less discrimination than other provinces, but central plains mindsets lingered.
Before reaching Chengdu, Mujin had scouted the Sichuan Tang Clan, assigning Luk Chil a minor task. Hearteningly, Na Reung—who'd bickered just days ago—jumped at it.
"What about me?"
"Go to your room and build your inner energy."
"I can do it too!"
"No, you can't. You think, and things go wrong."
Iron King lived up to his moniker—an ironclad simpleton.
Head included.
Everyone has their role—Mujin gave Cheol Ho what suited him.
Cunning schemes were worse than useless for him.
There's a saying:
If your head's no good, your body's the one that suffers.
-Talking about you.
'Shut it.'
-So that's why you're bullying him. Birds of a feather. Don't like poles repel?
'Quiet.'
Cheol Ho knew his head wasn't the sharpest, but hearing it stung all the same. Heading to his room, he resolved to memorize the Thousand Character Classic.