Chapter 204
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 204
Chapter Title: Chess Match (1)
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Hiring a merchant caravan proved more difficult than expected. Just as anticipated, the caravans had suspended their journeys indefinitely.
Heading into a region where both the Red Wind Pirates and Black Wind Pirates were rampaging was nothing short of gambling with one's life. Merchants might risk their necks for profit, but they had no desire to cross paths with battle-hardened bandit crews. That wasn't courage—it was recklessness. Taking shelter from storms was a merchant's virtue.
Instead, finding a guide was feasible.
Local guides who knew how to cross the desert were a dime a dozen. Caravans could afford to tough it out with their funds, but most guides lived hand-to-mouth. They needed the work, whether it meant one death or another.
However, with bandits on the prowl and now the Blood Palace's Blood Lion Squad mobilized, snagging a guide willing to head to the destination was no easy task.
Fortunately, one man had guts to spare.
"Name's Makho."
"Must've been a tough call. You sure about this?"
"Ten nyang of gold? That's worth betting my life on."
"You won't need to bet your life."
"You're a good man."
"Save the flattery."
Makho kept a straight face despite Mujin's indifferent tone. He knew how to handle people. And guides like Mujin, who actually cared, were rare around these parts. Local merchants only sought them out when desperate, treating them like dirt otherwise.
"What about transport?"
"Camels over horses. Easier to load, and nothing beats 'em in the desert."
"Buy whatever we need. Don't skimp."
"Leave it to me. I'll get the best."
Mujin sent Makho to procure survival gear for crossing the desert. Naturally, he tagged along Yukchil and Cheolho. He might seem soft-hearted on the surface, but he didn't trust strangers. Four people's worth of supplies wouldn't be light, either.
Mujin waited at the inn.
Makho returned at sunset. He'd bought only two camels. Mujin had told him to get plenty, but Makho insisted pack animals were more practical.
"The city's buzzing."
"Why?"
"Not sure on details, but it involves the Flame Heaven Clan."
"Ignore anything that doesn't concern us. Don't get dragged in."
"You're a good man."
"Flattery won't get you extra coin. Come eat."
They stabled the camels at the inn and dug into dinner. The mutton still didn't sit right with all the spices and gaminess. Adaptation was key, so Mujin forced it down.
Mujin had no desert experience himself, so he'd prepared thoroughly this time. He ate his fill and turned in early. They'd move at dawn the next day.
The midday desert scorched. Traveling under the blazing sun was brutal. Makho advised moving early before the heat peaked, with breaks as needed.
Mujin rose at dawn as Makho directed. They'd loaded the camels and were about to set off when—
"That's him, Makho."
The burly man's face was a mess of bruises. He pointed at Makho, then glanced nervously at the figure in the deep-brimmed hat.
"Scram. Show your face again, and you'll end up like the others."
"...Y-Yes, sir! I'll live right!"
The hatted man waved him off, and he bolted. It was clear he'd been through hell.
Needing a guide, he'd approached Makho. Seeing the packed gear, he'd timed it perfectly.
As he moved to pitch his offer, a familiar face approached.
"You?"
"So you're the one who stirred up the trouble."
The city had been rowdy last night. Word was the Flame Heaven Clan's leader was dead come morning, with casualties galore. Survivors had scattered, and even the Ghost Bandits were laying low.
The culprit? The androgynous woman from yesterday.
Mujin had suspected as much.
She'd tried hiding her aura, but her disguise was amateurish. Her presence leaked enough to outmatch any Flame Heaven rabble.
They'd stepped in deep shit, alright.
She wasn't thrilled either. No warmth for the man who'd feigned ignorance despite seeing her.
"Why'd you just walk away?"
"Why wouldn't I? Didn't fancy getting caught in the crossfire. You weren't expecting a total stranger to jump in for you, were you? If so, you're green as they come."
Her accusation lost steam. No ground to stand on for demanding intervention. Voicing it would just admit her inexperience.
'Who the hell is this guy?'
He'd been odd from the start, and every exchange left her off-balance. But she lacked cause for anger. All she could do was glare.
"No words? Then step aside. We're busy."
"Wait. I have business with him too."
"What business?"
"None of yours."
"I hired him first—who else gets a say? You've got a knack for twisted words. Not asking me to back off just because you say please? For the record, he was hard to find, and we're ready. Still none of your business?"
"...That's—!"
She couldn't counter in time. A novel experience. No one had ever handled her like this.
Irritating as it was, rebuttal made her the villain.
She faltered.
Mujin offered a compromise. He'd sensed her disruptive energy anyway.
"Fine. Where you headed?"
"And you?"
"Sorap."
"...What?"
"Same path?"
"What are you?"
Her eyes chilled as Mujin turned away post-chat. He knew her; she didn't know him.
Stalker, maybe?
"I'm not done."
"Heading to Sorap 'cause someone's there. No need for misunderstandings. I got here first, in case you didn't notice. You don't go picking fights with randos, do you?"
"Who said that!"
"Oh, and we're paying ten nyang. You got that?"
"Yeah."
"Good."
She'd unwittingly joined them. Stunned at the casual acceptance sans suspicion. Swept up by a stranger whose identity escaped her. Had she ever been led like this?
—Cheolho, what's with Master?
—No idea.
He's not one to take in strange women.
—Woman?
—Blind or what? Obvious gal.
Cheolho didn't buy into Yukchil's transmission much. Still, Master accepting a woman so readily was odd, as Yukchil said. He ignored women except Madam. That resolve was exemplary.
'Ice arts. Could help with Sword Empress treatment.'
—Poor girl, bad luck.
'Her luck turned meeting me.'
—Wanna bet?
'Hot day ahead.'
Her ice arts might aid the Sword Empress. Perfect if matching exactly, but probably not. True nature revealed in action.
She'd show it soon enough.
Swipe!
Mujin nodded at her.
She should get it, but stared blankly alongside the others.
"What?"
"What do you mean?"
"Going empty-handed? Buy gear. Or you eyeing ours shamelessly?"
"...Fine."
Fuming, she had no retort. Desert crossing demanded food, water, tools. Martial arts or not, humans needed sustenance.
'Damn bastard!'
No more answers from her now.
The journey progressed smoothly.
Mujin's group followed Makho's lead silently. First-timers did best heeding guides. Any funny business, and heads would've rolled.
Sorap was at least a fortnight away. They traveled shadows by day, so pace stayed slow.
Makho called this fast, though.
Haste in the desert drained you quick—killed quicker.
Nights, they pitched yurts, warmed rations.
Moon rose in darkness, stars blazed like a pour. Cloudless sky, moon huge and luminous. Night as clear as noon.
Fire crackled before the yurts; they sat around.
"Sister's okay, right?"
"If she dies, her fate. Hope she lives, though. Dragged me this far—empty hands would suck."
Yukchil and Cheolho dropped it. She seemed pissed at being hauled to the desert. Fair; she was the culprit pulling Mujin from comfy home.
She might be better off dead. Death preferable?
'Sister, but where to hit?'
'Won't... won't hit a lady, huh.'
They knew Mujin spared no one when riled—man, woman, old, young. Brutally fair.
"Sorap's no place for people, is it?"
"Wanna know why we're going?"
"No."
"Don't ask. Tired."
Makho didn't slack on guests despite the familiarity. No need to spill details anyway.
"Wanna go home."
"Soon, Master."
"Getting pissed thinking about it. Why eat slop like that?"
"Sister didn't mean to."
Idle chatter killed time. Post-meal, they'd rotate watches. More sleep was better.
'What kind of people?'
She'd stayed vigilant since joining. But days passed with zero fuss, fueling frustration. Was she paranoid for nothing?
'Why not ask!'
Norms dictated name-asking for newbies. Yet nothing. Watches? "Hey, up!" Done.
'That's weird too.'
Stranger joins, they sleep soundly on watch. Who guaranteed safety? Either trust or dismissal.
'They trust me? Just like that?'
Trust on sight?
Rare types existed, but their meeting was fishy. Desert city rumors should've raised flags.
She couldn't hold back. Curiosity demanded answers.
"You."
"Yeah."
"Why no questions?"
"Don't wanna know."
Perfect non-answer to a dumb question.
Why bother asking what you don't care for?
Ugh!
Utterly logical, it shut her down. Her braced expectations turned laughable.
"You trust me?"
"Nope."
"Then why?"
"You do you, I do me. Cool?"
Straight, textbook replies scratched her raw. Talking to him boiled her blood unwittingly. Yet spot-on. Strangers didn't get life stories. Better unasked.
Stubborn, she pressed.
"I'm Nam Cheonjin."
"So?"
Names prompt reciprocity—conversation 101. "So?" left her stranded. Flabbergasted again. First time cornered like this in talk.
Summoning patience, she tried again.
"What's your name?"
"Cheon-sang-cheon-ha-yu-a-dok-jon-geum-ui-hwan-hyiang-bu-bu-mu-jeok."