Chapter 168
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 168
Chapter Title: Just Like I Learned (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
A hearty laugh bursting from the depths of his lungs echoed through the room. It was probably the first time in his life he'd laughed this hard.
"Heavenly Fortune Fist, eh. What a ridiculous character. Isn't he?"
"...Yes, Heavenly Lord!"
"A single loach muddying the entire world—that's a talent in its own right."
Unintentionally, he'd become a variable shaking the foundations of the grand scheme. Thanks to Heavenly Fortune Fist, it would now take at least several more years.
"Give the order. I will cut off his lifeline for certain."
"Oh dear, such harsh words. Don't we need at least one amusing fellow like this to make life worth living? Especially with all eyes on him—if he dies, where do you think those arrows will fly?"
"My judgment was shortsighted, Heavenly Lord!"
Cold sweat poured down Baekam's back like a spring. Beneath that calm demeanor, the Heavenly Lord could become the king of the underworld at any moment.
"He has real skill."
"Peak upper level, at least."
A peak expert emerging from a minor sect like Somunpa wasn't bad at all. At that level, earning a reputation was hardly surprising. But this one craved fame beyond his abilities and fell right into his own trap. The desperate flailing of a fool ignorant of his place had set the world abuzz.
"He knows how to draw eyes."
"He's better at schemes than martial arts. For instance, you can't pin covert kills on his actual skills."
He knew how to use his head, but couldn't see even an inch ahead.
The Heavenly Lord dispelled his doubts. Such trash couldn't possibly have caused Mokam's failure.
"And the Sword Emperor?"
"He met with Chwiseon. Doesn't seem he's fully shaken off his suspicions."
"If doubts vanished that easily, that would be the real deception. Then we need to hand him ironclad proof. How far along is it?"
"Completion is imminent."
"We should clear one obstacle before we go."
Nangong Sega and the Beggars' Sect were in the way. But taking out the Sword Emperor and Chwiseon now would only strengthen the Murim Alliance. It was too soon. They needed to erase every trace more thoroughly.
"What of the North Sea?"
"Succession looks set to happen any day now."
He'd completely overhauled the plan to shake the Central Plains and pivot to the Western Regions. Secure the West first, then relaunch the Central Plains conquest. That meant executing each step in sequence. Like everything else, it had to flow smoothly, interlocking like water. No room for failure midway.
Mujin had struck gold.
He'd sucked every last drop from Guo Family Manor. Specialties from Jiangsu Province and fresh meats made up lavish three—or four—course meals daily as standard, while he guzzled fine liquors and teas like plain water. Alone, he polished off costs that would've fed a hundred men with ease.
It was the full glory of one who couldn't be matched by a hundred warriors.
Unfair on Guo Family Manor, of course.
Even raising a hundred cattle, leaving Mujin unchecked would've bankrupted the clan. There were limits to solo revelry. He lived far more comfortably in strangers' homes than his own.
Unable to stall any longer, Guo Cheol-yong dragged his younger brother to the annex. Prolonging it only burned through family funds pointlessly.
Dizzying!
He hadn't even stood. Just seeing Mujin nod curtly from his seat made Guo Cheol-yong's nape cramp.
"Have a seat. Why stand there gawking? My face isn't thick enough for that—it's embarrassing."
Embarrassed, who?
Saying it himself, with a face thicker than diamond. No wonder they'd suffered waiting on this guy. Now his true colors showed, he strutted openly. And that cheeky impudence screamed, What're you gonna do about it?
"I have business to discuss."
"How long did you stew on it before coming?"
"...?"
Guo Cheol-yong's bid for compromise through talk died before it began. His ploy leveraging blood ties to Baemun Merchant Group? Dead in the water.
What a worldly scoundrel!
See? Treat him right from the start, and none of this mess!
As his brother's face twisted, Guo Cheol-woong let out a deep sigh. They never should've played it so calculating from the jump. Go calculating with Mujin, and he'd calculate right back—harder.
Of course, hospitality or not, keep the books straight.
Expecting free rides? He'd pluck every last hair from their heads. Don't count on regrowth—he'd drop by every trip to yank more.
"A thousand taels enough?"
"I've got a conscience. How could I mistreat someone tied to my wife's clan? But racking up that tab? That's all on Guo Family Manor."
A thousand taels wasn't chump change. Guo Cheol-yong figured he'd bid high, but Mujin didn't blink. Treated it like pennies.
"How much do you want, then?"
"Your main ventures? Fifty thousand taels feels fair. Future potential? Could stretch to half a million."
Gasp!
From a thousand to fifty thousand in a heartbeat. One phrase ballooned costs dozens-fold. Guo Cheol-yong scowled. Too far, even for this guy. Word was he spent hundreds of thousands like water—was a thousand not even coin?
"Fifty thousand's excessive, no?"
"Why the act? Wind Sword Sect covered that much."
Not Wind Sword Sect solo—pooled rewards from officials and sects alike. No need to spell it out. Negotiation 101: shoot high.
"Our situation's nothing like Wind Sword Sect."
"Word is So Family Manor, backed by Hebei Peng Family, is booming. Prioritize short-term gains? Can't blame you. Safe travels."
Mujin, zero regrets.
So Family swallowing Guo Manor and dominating Danyang? No skin off his nose. Turf wars happened daily; weak got eaten in this dog-eat-dog world.
Besides, Hebei Peng Family wasn't helping So for charity. Compared to whatever contract So inked with them, fifty thousand taels was practically free.
Mujin had pulled estimates from Beggars' Sect on Guo's ops and protection rackets—dialed in a fair price. No ballparking bullshit.
"Wait—hold on!"
"Sixty thousand taels."
...Seen a robber like this?
Mujin, live demo of This is business! Commerce ran on people, sure—but he had zero reason to bind tight with Guo Manor. Loose ties, mutual use: take what's owed, give what's due, done clean.
"Why sixty thousand?"
"Don't lowball Guo Family Manor's worth."
Praise, yet Guo Cheol-yong felt zero joy. Sounded like extortion: pay up or your clan's trash. Rage blinded him to Mujin's prep. The guy had scouted Guo Manor and surrounds inside out. Him? Fretting rumors, blowing it up.
"Can you upgrade the sword manual?"
"Sure. Don't even need to see it."
The longer the talk dragged, the more bile rose in Guo Cheol-yong.
The family sword manual? Refined across generations, packed with essence. Equating it to street third-rate swill? Lie if he wasn't pissed.
Trembling!
Gazing at that impudent mug, he ached to smack it good. But he knew better—no hitting this guy. Swing first? Eat fist, roll ugly on the floor—best case.
"Upgrade it, and it's yours... no, sixty thousand taels. Can't pay full now—time?"
"Not strangers here. Generous interest, and we'll stretch the term."
Might as well be.
Extend, sure—but skim interest too. Kid bloating flea livers. Guo Cheol-yong swallowed curses, sealed the deal.
"Stamp here."
"Sword manual's yours."
Stamped, he pulled the manual from his bosom and handed it over. Mujin glanced, then pitched.
"Upgrading the manual alone won't cut it. Gotta fix the elephant in the room too, right?"
"Not for an outsider."
Clash with So Family Manor grew uglier by the day. Greed bared, no flowery talk—even from the righteous. Interests on the line? Righteous turned savage quick. Just sneakier about it.
Simplest litmus: Righteous? Handle off-radar. Evil? Flex open force.
Thick-skinned old hypocrites? Never cop to it. All spin, no admission—honor's stain, see? Package tight, earn "great hero" laurels later.
"Hebei Peng Family's investing heavy, yeah? Call mine an investment—game?"
"Think martial arts shift overnight?!"
"Only if you're flashing your bottom line. Guo Family Manor's got untapped potential."
"For real?"
"No dice? Knock ten thousand off. Post-contract, no meddling."
Generosity stank of ulterior motive, but Guo Cheol-yong couldn't refuse. Mujin's level? Super-peak minimum. This confident? Best bet to link up.
Advance: twenty thousand taels. Felt like "thousands? Don't even mention"—tens of thousands tossed casual.
Burning arms for manual and training ahead, Guo Cheol-yong's laugh rang hollow.
Screw it.
No backing out now—fish or fowl, decide. Clinging to "can't get worse," he stamped.
Draining till the last drop.
Brother stamped again.
Guo Cheol-woong marveled at Mujin's slick salesmanship—stripping assets without lifting a finger. Reckless? Nah. Pure calculation, rock-solid grounds.
A warrior—master, even! Money-mad like this?!
Guo Cheol-woong didn't hate coin.
Not everything, but needed to live. Still, Mujin's rabid hoarding? Overkill. Blunt truth: Mujin's war chest matched or beat Guo Manor's.
"Family head or elders got eyes. Can make introductions. Fair warning: training's brutal."
"How brutal?"
"Scales with sincerity."
...Dog of a bastard!