Chapter 190
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 190
Chapter Title: Twisted Fate (2)
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"They've fallen right into the trap, those fools."
"He's mocked across the land as the Heavenly Fortune Fist, but considering what he's accomplished, his scheming runs deeper than ordinary."
"Compared to you?"
"I haven't earned the same notoriety as him."
Peak martial prowess paired with exceptional intellect—yet the world ridiculed him. It all stemmed from greed that demanded more than his abilities alone could provide.
But he didn't blame his greed. It was only natural for a man to crave fame.
"What should we do?"
"We watch for now. The moment we make a move, they'll broadcast it far and wide that we're behind it. He probably factored that in too."
Peak martial might—at his age, it wasn't just respectable; it was extraordinary. Beyond late-stage proficiency with keen wits to match; if he'd played it modestly, he wouldn't have faced such mockery.
"What a nuisance."
"How about linking up with the Zhuge family once the rumors die down?"
The grudge between the Zhuge family and the Heavenly Fortune Fist ran deep as well. Exploiting that would clear our noses without lifting a finger.
"Not a bad idea."
"I'll reach out discreetly."
The Huangbo Clan refrained from applying pressure, maintaining silence throughout the incident. But that alone dealt a blow to the Shandong Wicked Clan. With local warriors, elites, and merchants having witnessed it, rumors were inevitable.
'They'll pay for the interference.'
He forgot favors but never grudges. He always repaid double what he received.
Once the Huangbo Clan and Shandong Wicked Clan reached a tacit agreement, Mujin's exploits sank beneath the surface. Only insiders knew.
But those in the know were Shandong Province's true powers, boosting the Huangbo Clan's prestige. Regardless of reasons, they appeared magnanimous for forgiving the Wicked Clan's tyranny in the name of provincial stability.
The Huangbo Clan built an image of generosity and fame externally, gaining justification to pull ahead of the closely pursuing Wicked Clan.
"Your son-in-law's tactics are truly impressive."
"Rigid thinking stifles progress. Flexibility is a virtue when the time calls for it."
"I've learned much."
"This should more than cover the betrothal gifts."
"The main family trusts you completely."
"I must decline."
The firm refusal made the Fist King swallow hard. He'd grown somewhat accustomed since their first meeting, but his son-in-law defied categorization. When he sensed something off, he'd overturn a lavish feast with his own hands. An incarnation of unpredictable variables.
"Why say that? I haven't treated you poorly."
"The hospitality is fine. But support my younger brother instead of me."
"Using your brother as a shield, eh?"
"Slander. What do you take me for?"
"Seems I've got you pegged right."
Ahem!
Before knowing Mujin, it might pass as brotherly generosity yielding to family duty. But his actions screamed otherwise.
-The Fist King sees right through you.
'That's why old folks need to retire quick.'
-Your own kids would think the same of you.
'What do you know? I don't even have kids!'
-I said you do.
'Puppets at best.'
-Childish brat!
'You started it. Who's childish? And I'm always serious.'
-Fair enough, not wrong.
His brother needed to grow stronger. Future crises were unpredictable. He wouldn't venture out without securing his family's safety.
Cultivating virtue in self, family, then nation took precedence over governing and pacifying the world.
The nation's welfare came after.
A fallen state could be rebuilt, but a lost family was gone forever. And no emperor could touch him anyway.
'Some emperor won't dare lay a hand on my family.'
-True enough.
Both War King and Demon King viewed emperors as less than scraps for dogs. Unless it was the Demonic Cult of the Demon God, they could slaughter imperial armies and set them straight anytime.
"Who are you talking to?"
"A ghost haunting me without knowing its place."
"You can commune with spirits too?"
"Among other things."
The Fist King eyed Mujin oddly. Most would falter, but Mujin wouldn't bat an eye even if his Demon King possession went public.
What could they do about it?
"What's your plan now?"
"Lay low. As you see, I'm a pacifist."
"I've found that the more one chases, the more trouble follows."
"Not my favorite sentiment, but you're full of wisdom, Father-in-law."
"I'll take that as praise."
Huangbo Gwan-hyuk wondered if he had anyone left to chat so freely with. His grown sons demanded propriety, and rising fame distanced others.
This young son-in-law shared drinks treating him like the old pugilist from the neighborhood.
'It's been ages.'
Higher realms meant fewer confidants—a lonely truth. He was just an aging man. Someone like his son-in-law made life worthwhile.
"Feeling sluggish? Care for a spar?"
"......Body's not up to it today."
It couldn't always be fun.
Mujin's strength was acknowledged even by Huangbo Gwan-hyuk. So mighty at that age—it revealed heavens beyond heaven. Acting like a spent elder risked missing the thrill.
"You must grow stronger. To overcome trials."
"You have a knack for chilling words, son-in-law."
"Once family's gone, what's left to protect? That world's ruin means nothing to me."
"You leave no retreat. Fine, let's spar!"
The New Continent Twenty Supremes' flaw wasn't strength, but complacency. Overconfident in their supremacy, they needed their fighting spirit reignited. That alone could transform a warrior. Stagnant power, no matter how mighty, was weak.
"Call your sons too?"
"Naturally."
"I heard the Fist King was magnanimous."
"Show me a man who stays magnanimous after a beating!"
Deified or not, the Fist King was human.
For Huangbo Jang-cheon and Huangbo Jang-seong, immersed in duties, it was a bolt from the blue. Summoned abruptly by their father, they faced Mujin in combat.
Mount Tai, half-repaired, shattered anew.
After several hearty rounds, Mujin dusted his hands clean.
Fist King, Iron Fist, Hundred Battle Fist.
They stared in dismay. They knew Mujin was strong, but defeating them all single-handed?
Unfathomable power.
Even against them together, Mujin showed no fatigue. Not a drop of sweat—chilling. The true extent dwarfed prior displays.
'Blind to greater heights all this time.'
'He dismantled our clan arts.'
'The more we fight, the more hopeless it feels!'
Mujin's terror went beyond mere strength. It sank in deeper with each clash. Compared to first facing clan techniques, he seemed another man—like he'd mastered them all. No openings.
"Protect what's dear? Grow stronger than now."
"You're getting scarier by the minute."
Mujin surpassed the New Continent Twenty Supremes. Arguably unrivaled in history. Yet he warned of hidden currents' dread.
'History's heroes abound, but no monster like my son-in-law.'
Heaven balanced all. A freak like Mujin meant dark forces equally perilous.
"For now, Nangong, Tang Clan, Beggars' Gang, Huangbo Clan. We can trust each other somewhat. But no complacency—the underworld's terror is just the tip."
When the Demonic Cult of the Demon God struck fully, murim fell helplessly because lifelong allies betrayed them. Feet cut by trusted axes, they crumbled without resistance.
'This should give them the sense.'
-Folks don't get it till it hits them, no matter how many times you warn.
'Maybe, but they won't die stupid.'
-Just buying time, then.
'Better alive.'
-The world defies plans. Even knowing the future.
The Demon King's words pierced true. The future Mujin knew had diverged. How it'd shift? Even he couldn't say.
'Think positive.'
-Would be nice.
Not just Mujin's hope—the Demon King's too. He needed his Demonic Cult past.
Ultimately, slay the bastard who dared enslave him.
Wrapping affairs, Mujin exited the Huangbo Clan's main gate.
Return trip gained a mouth. He billed the Huangbo Clan for Se-ryeong's travel. Family-to-be or not, she remained their precious jewel. Yesterday's solo with Fist King included a firm cash demand.
Pocket change snatched, but Mujin chalked it to grandfatherly love for his granddaughter.
Who wouldn't give a granddaughter a hundred taels of gold?
'Ever emptied my sleeves for another?'
Huangbo Gwan-hyuk gazed at his deflated sleeve as Mujin and his granddaughter departed. The money pouch inside hungered. Scraped clean without mercy.
"Safe to send them off?"
"What trouble could arise? Worrywart."
"What if the Wicked Clan sends assassins?"
"Too many eyes. No need for concern."
Elders fretted sending Huangbo Se-ryeong off.
Huangbo Jang-seong feigned paternal worry outwardly, unconcerned inwardly.
'An assassin who could kill my son-in-law?'
Not even the world's top assassin, Heaven's Killer of the Six Killers. Bluntly, even desperate Wicked Clan assaults wouldn't faze him.
'They better not lose.'
Our face is at stake.
The journey mirrored the inbound route.
En route, Yuk-chil relayed Beggars' Gang intel. They exchanged updates routinely, ignoring non-essentials. Reviewing every detail was tedious; meddling hurt efficiency.
Shortest to Anhui: ship from Jining straight south. Via Jiangsu doubled time. Mujin, eager to rush home, disliked it.
But the world punishes negligence. Miss the chance, and he'd abet his wife's overwork.
Mujin's goal: idle bliss with wife forever. And Mijoo finding her match to withstand his Ten Breaths Style, living sweetly. He wished that earnestly.