Chapter 148
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 148
Chapter Title: Telepathy (1)
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A seismic event rocked the Anhui merchant world.
Until now, the Qing Wind and Baekje Merchant Guilds had been locked in a fierce back-and-forth struggle for dominance in the Merchant Tournament, while the Jeongun Merchant Guild had fallen far behind, their earnings not even comparable to those of mid-sized firms.
But then, an astonishing reversal occurred.
An unexpected gold mine had been discovered and development begun, with gold now entering circulation. A certain amount had already been mined, which meant they had obtained official permission from the authorities.
They had spent that time cowering, brainstorming other ventures, even prospecting mines here and there. Everyone had dismissed it as futile effort, predicting the Jeongun Merchant Guild would soon shut its doors.
Now, with massive quantities of gold flooding the market, the frozen merchant world ignited with fervor. Deals sprang up with guilds from other provinces, spreading the gold far and wide. Mine development had lagged recently, leaving demand high but supply scarce.
The Jeongun Merchant Guild raked in enormous profits from the gold, closing in rapidly on the backs of the Baekje and Qing Wind Guilds. Pundits predicted a shake-up in the frontrunners for the tournament championship before long.
Grit!
Mukam ground his teeth at the absurd turn of events in the merchant world. His appearance had changed dramatically from before. His sunken eyes gleamed sharply, his angular jawline gaunt from wasting away. His temperament had turned irritable, mirroring the transformation in his looks.
"How can this be? Does this even make sense?!"
The Jeongun Merchant Guild should never have risen again. The plan had been for the Baekje and Qing Wind Guilds to absorb it, siphoning away their manpower and expertise for mine development. Yet they had struck a mine at the perfect moment.
And not just a little—they had already extracted a substantial amount.
They should have acted before official permission was granted. Then the Jeongun Guild's mine could have been seized. But with the authorities' approval, taking it was impossible.
And there was something suspicious about it.
They weren't developing just one mine, but four at once. Where had a cash-strapped guild like Jeongun gotten the funds? No lender in their right mind would back a risky venture like theirs.
Creak!
Heuksu returned.
"Who provided the funds?"
"The Cheonun Group."
"Not some lender—the Cheonun Group?! When did this happen?"
"It seems they signed a prior contract during that earlier deal with the Jeongun Guild."
He felt as if he'd been struck hard on the head with a club—dazed and numb.
Mukam could scarcely believe it. That flimsy deal, passed off as a gift for his wife, had bought the Jeongun Guild breathing room and delayed everything.
In truth, it hadn't even needed to go to the tournament deadline. But then that bastard provided the funds, and things started unraveling.
Now he was shaking the very foundations of their grand scheme.
"How did you find out?"
"The guy was bragging everywhere about his windfall."
Apparently, right before circulating the gold, he'd gotten drunk at an inn, paid for everyone's drinks in his good mood, and boasted loudly of his heavenly luck, even ringing gold ingots like bells.
Shudder!
That damned bastard had luck that wouldn't quit. Mine development was impossible without fortune favoring you. He must have fallen for the Jeongun Guild's coaxing. Normally, you'd just pour in money and lose it all—but instead, they struck gold.
"Where is that punk now?"
"He was drinking at the inn, got ambushed the next day, and hasn't been seen since."
It was only natural.
Brag about making a fortune, and you paint a target on your back. If you're going to flaunt wealth, you need martial prowess or backing to match. Strutting around after a bit of profit was like begging for a knife in the gut.
"Lucky bastard."
Even now, fortune smiled on him. Even without the ambush, Mukam would have vented his rage on him anyway.
This wasn't enough to slake his fury.
"I need to give that punk a full taste of life's joys and sorrows. Contact the Oseongmun."
"Yes, Dark Lord."
The chosen ones.
Taejin and Yukchil couldn't forget the faces of Cheolho and Narung waving goodbye as they departed.
They had never looked so cheerful.
They knew the road to Mujin and the Jeongun Merchant Guild wouldn't be smooth. It took extraordinary circumstances for those two to venture outside.
With the Jeongun Guild now fully entering the tournament fray, the Anhui merchant world was in an uproar. For the Baekje and Qing Wind Guilds, who had been taking it easy, it was like fire on their feet.
In reality, the rivalry between Baekje and Qing Wind hadn't been intense. It was more like an agreement to split the pie, openly colluding to eliminate one contender and monopolize the market.
'How the hell did they find out?'
That was the part Yukchil couldn't fathom. Gold mines didn't pop up just because you wanted them to—otherwise, everyone from dogs to oxen would be digging. Even local magnates often went bust trying, blinded by greed—no pity there.
'First the oil from Gongcheong Stone, now a gold mine. Is this guy blessed by the gods?'
Yukchil's mind reeled at the incomprehensible reality unfolding. When he heard about investing in Jeongun, he'd tilted his head in doubt. Considering the Anhui merchant landscape, they should have dealt with Baekje or Qing Wind. Pouring vast sums into a sinking ship was like adding water to a cracked jar.
'Ah! I should've invested too!'
He had a little saved from begging, scrimping, and scraping. It would have been perfect for lean times if he'd put it into Jeongun.
The young lord seemed to expect him to ferret out the investment secret. When the tide comes, row with it. If the guy was this spot-on, jumping on the bandwagon after watching couldn't hurt.
Follow the trend.
'Unless you're a fool.'
On the other hand, it was impressive.
Mujin's investment had thrown the Anhui merchant world into chaos—a whirlwind of turmoil. The Baekje and Qing Wind Guilds, who thought they'd coast to victory, were now scrambling in panic.
Haa.
A sigh escaped him.
It seemed haphazard, but looking back, everything flowed exactly as Mujin wanted. Each time Yukchil felt it viscerally, chills ran down his spine.
'We won't get swept up in that guy's typhoon, will we?'
Huangbo family, Nangong family, Beggars' Clan, Tang Clan, Ami Sect, and now Jeongun Merchant Guild. None were lightweight forces, yet they were banding together around Mujin.
Astonishingly.
Outwardly, he was known as the supremely lucky Cheonun Group. A facade built on lies and hype, yet no one questioned it. In truth, it was hard to doubt—especially for rational people.
His reputation as the wastrel son of a minor Qingyang County faction deceived and distorted perceptions.
'What's his game this time?'
When he bragged about his earnings at the inn, Yukchil thought he was insane. Unpredictable types like that defied forecasts. Just when you thought you had him figured, he'd do something even crazier.
'He's aiming for something.'
Before leaving Songho Sect, Mujin had instructed him via the Beggars' Clan to spread a certain rumor very discreetly. Packaged as intel known only to Jeongun's top brass.
Swipe!
Yukchil glanced at Taejin, who had traveled with him. Unlike his fresh-faced look back at Songho Sect, venom seeped from his eyes.
'Your life's in the dumps too, smh.'
After tying with Cheolho, dark clouds had gathered over Taejin's life. The journey had been nonstop grueling training. Yukchil, dragged along for the ride, was just as exhausted.
"Take it easy, man."
"No time for that."
Taejin had no room for choices. He had to focus solely on training to beat Brother Cheolho. Another loss meant traveling with his father.
'This feels calculated.'
Mujin was alternating between dragging Taejin and Cheolho into brutal training and real combat. On the surface, it looked like consideration for his son and disciple—stoking their rivalry to boost their strength.
Cruel and heartless, sure, but the results were monstrous, so no one could complain.
Taejin and Cheolho's prowess had reached levels where even seasoned masters hesitated to claim superiority. If they kept growing like this, they might become another Mujin.
'Damn it, this hits close to home!'
Thank goodness their personalities weren't rotten, but as the saying goes, birds of a feather. They were absorbing Mujin's shameless, brazen traits wholesale.
And not one, but two of them. Mujin didn't seem like the type to mellow with age either.
'This is maddening.'
A Haedong Qing pigeon flew in with news.
-Your responsibility weighs heavy.
As Yukchil read the letter, he nearly choked on Hong Mu-gae's plea at the end.
This isn't something you can just block.
Mujin had vanished after stirring trouble at the inn. Before that, he'd told Narung to come by a set date.
He'd tipped off the Jeongun Guild via Neung Soryeo. Better to lay groundwork in advance than travel together.
Like other clans or sects, the guild had a place for secret meetings.
Mountain Cloud Grotto.
Not in the inner sanctum, but an underground chamber on the outskirts, connected to the guild master's room. Used for discreet gatherings away from prying eyes. Built when Jeongun first settled here, in preparation for the future.
"At last, we meet the guild's benefactor. I scarcely know how to repay the great hero's immense grace."
"I appreciate the words, but this is no time for complacency."
Neung Baekhwan was a master of diplomacy, as befitted a merchant. He could have leveraged status and age for authority, but he was purely a businessman.
It was hard to believe such a man had invested in mine development. On second thought, it underscored how dire the guild's finances had been.
"If you're worried about the Baekje and Qing Wind Guilds' movements, rest easy. With officials posted at the mines, they won't dare act rashly."
"You can't assume that just because officials and murim don't mix. I hear the tournament winner has the right to demand concessions from the losers. What will you demand, Guild Master?"
"Naturally, their foundational businesses."
"They won't hand them over willingly."
"But they can't ignore the tournament rules."
It was a merchants' code. Refuse the winner's demands, and you'd be ostracized not just in Anhui, but across the continent's merchant networks. An edict set long ago by the era's Merchant Emperor. The tournament served as a stepping stone to inherit that mantle, held in each province.
"The Baekje and Qing Wind rivalry isn't fierce. From the circumstances, they're clearly aiming to split the spoils—or perhaps they've been one entity all along."
"Impossible. They've operated independently for ages. Why merge now?"
"True enough. But if a third party intervenes between them, that's a different story."
Baekje and Qing Wind had centuries of history like Jeongun. That legacy bred fierce independence. Yet lately, their coordination was too seamless for independents.
'If the Nangong family is wavering, their interest in the tournament must have waned.'
-Thinking that far? You're finally using your head properly.
'Suspicious. The temporary fortress bothers me too.'
-They'll go all out this time. No room for more failures.
That's why he leaked the info.
Intel hard to know without interest in the mines. If it reached them, the connection was confirmed. No more stalling—they'd have to hurry.
'I'm a thorn in their side, so they won't let me succeed unchallenged.'
-If they can't eat it, they'll smash it.
Human nature. No one hates seeing a hated rival thrive more than death itself. Especially if he's always been an eyesore. Mujin's track record aided the plan.
But it was more psychological warfare than prediction. The Demon King's insight into the Demonic Cult of the Demon God's tendencies was invaluable.
"You have caravans heading to Jiangsu Province, correct?"
"Yes. We've been instructed to proceed as quietly as possible."
"You and your daughter must travel together."
"Why the sudden change?"
"It's time to choose, time to focus. Best to settle it during this caravan run."
"You're saying expand the caravan's scale. But that's a dangerous gamble."
"And yet you boldly invested in the mines."
Mujin's pointed words left a bitter taste on Neung Baekhwan's tongue. Not wrong. The mines had succeeded and eased finances, but they lacked capacity for new ventures. They planned to link with Jiangsu guilds.
"So, Great Hero Kang is convinced they'll resort to extremes."
"I've heard that for merchants, losing one's core trade is like a warrior losing their martial arts."
"Indeed, your perspective differs from ordinary warriors."
"Warrior or not, value matters."
Neung Baekhwan couldn't help but admire inwardly. The high-level warriors he'd met tended to subtly disdain merchants. They viewed merchants' values as inferior to martial prowess. But Great Hero Kang saw merchant worth without prejudice.
"The rumors about you are way off base."
"Fame and prestige are fleeting clouds. We must pour everything into protecting our true worth, don't you think?"
Mujin was pressing for a decision. They wouldn't back down easily—time to commit.
"I'll follow the Great Hero's will."
"The greater the risk, the greater the reward."
For now, they agreed Mujin would join the Jiangsu caravan. Upon reaching the predetermined spot, he'd introduce a wildcard.
"And what of your betrothal to my daughter?"
"If she's willing, I'll discuss it with her father."
"Oh dear, forgive my presumption. As a father, I worry if that delicate girl can handle it."
"Who worries for children if not their parents? I understand completely."
Neung Soryeo, delicate? Recalling her at Songho Sect, he'd think it referred to someone else. He knew her capabilities but not her ladylike facade. Fathers don't see their daughters' pretenses, after all.
-What about Mijoo then?
'Don't touch family.'
Mujin furrowed his brow at the Demon King's jab. But suddenly, a forgotten premise resurfaced.
Oh.
Siblings become heroes, and heroes are lechers.
Forgot the important part.
Snap!
As if reading his mind, Yeo Un-sang, the acting manager who had been listening quietly, shook his head emphatically. A silent, desperate plea: say nothing.
'Well, that changes things.'