Chapter 71
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 71
Chapter Title: Returning in Glory (1)
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The shadier the guy, the less anyone trusted him. And the sharper the instincts, the more he'd dig an escape route. Always prepared to bolt solo if needed. That was the rats' specialty.
Mujin didn't blame the rats.
They were far more economical than tigers recklessly charging around just to protect their own hides. Martial artists were tough to kill even if you were strong, and the payoffs weren't great. On top of that, they were frugal to a fault—enough to piss anyone off.
"Middle-grade rat, at least."
Rats had their upper, middle, and lower tiers, with elites above that.
The more notorious the rogue, the closer to elite status. Those types never ended up broke. They hoarded insane wealth. Even back in his War King days, Mujin had tapped into that nicely, contributing to the murim economy.
Taejin, stunned by the gold and jewels, asked,
"Dad, what's all this?"
"Gifts from the heavens, moved by your good deeds."
"...?"
The heavens must be pretty damn moved.
Taejin and Cheol-ho could easily guess where Mujin had gone at night. He'd turned their hideout into a bloodbath—no way those types would let that slide quietly. The assassin group was probably uprooted entirely, and these treasures were surely funds skimmed by their leader.
"Pack up the goods."
There were four chests. By volume, less than the pirate haul from before, but quality over quantity. Bills of exchange, gold, and portable jewels—easy to carry. A thoughtful courtesy from Jang Gi-cheol. If portability had been an issue, Mujin would've regretted killing him cleanly.
"Let's head to the docks."
Bringing the chests out of the Black Night Tower had been purely for this moment. The quick-witted Namgung Yeon-hwa might've sensed something off. With the ledgers handed over, they'd be too busy cleaning house anyway.
Mujin herded his son and Cheol-ho toward the small port town's docks.
With daily training runs, of course.
"...Dad!"
"...Uncle!"
To build momentum and motivation, he fired off energy spheres. Falling short of the pace meant inviting misfortune.
"The foundation of martial arts comes from the lower body. Nothing beats running for leg training."
"...You said inner power!"
"...I can see your legs."
Mujin tolerated no backtalk. How dare they question father and master! Heaven and father—heaven bowed to father. Words straight from Confucius, Mencius, Laozi, and Buddha.
-Quit shoehorning nonsense. Ignorance isn't a flex.
Mujin neatly ignored the Demon King, then tacked on that the Demon King had said it.
-When did I?
Just now.
With the Little Dragon Tournament over, Mujin's priority was a swift return home. But a plain homecoming wouldn't cut it. He'd been away from his wife for a full month. Gifts for his celibate spouse were a must.
And there was official business to handle.
A key investment for the future.
They pushed nonstop to the small port.
Arriving in two days. Ships ran on tides, so they hit an inn.
Hwangbo Se-ryeong, waiting at the inn, spotted the group.
"Jing, why so late!"
"Sorry, you been waiting?"
As Hwangbo Se-ryeong pouted and scolded, Taejin couldn't hide his guilt. Cheol-ho, not wanting to see the PDA, pursed his lips in annoyance.
"Jealous? Want an intro?"
"Pass."
"Suit yourself."
"As if you have one."
Cheol-ho, fishing slyly with lingering curiosity. Say what you will—he was a guy in his prime, full of vigor.
"Got a fine widow nearby. Perfect match for your face. Hmm, widow might even look younger."
"...No thanks!"
Mujin's spirits lifted at Cheol-ho's horrified reaction.
This kid was a riot to tease. He played tough, but he was still green. With reactions this good, it'd be rude not to.
"One way to snag a famed beauty in the jianghu."
"What's that?"
"What else? Martial prowess! Gotta crack top hundred at least. You? Special case—top ten fingers. Otherwise, widow's your only shot."
A hundred sounded like a lot, but it was a tiny elite. Rarely more than five per province. Make the jianghu top hundred, and doors opened everywhere. Beauties? They'd bring gold and jewels galore.
But he was talking top ten. Grandmaster level, plain and simple.
"...No widows!"
"Knew it."
Mujin felt accomplished.
Today's dose of fateful encounter for Cheol-ho. He poked whenever the kid's iron will wavered.
As the master-disciple banter dragged on, Hwangbo Jang-seong cut in.
"Something to say?"
"Plenty. Wanna hear it here?"
"Inside."
"Throat's parched."
"I'll have drinks brought."
He had favors to ask of Jeong Un Merchant Group, and they needed the full story. No point hiding it. As part of the Five Great Families, Hwangbo needed the intel to prepare.
An investment for later—meat shield at worst. If they powered up, great; if not, still useful.
"No trouble. Behave."
"Of course."
Taejin and Cheol-ho had plenty to say but clamped shut from training discipline. One extra word meant hell nearby. Silence meant dodging disaster.
Mujin and Hwangbo Jang-seong sat at a pavilion in the annex with drinks. The annex was modest, but the garden stream added charm. The owner's vibe: small but satisfying.
Fresh sashimi swam obliviously along the waterway.
"You had business, then."
"What follows is Namgung Family's dirty laundry."
Mujin got straight to it. Listen if you want. But it's their shame—your call.
Hwangbo Jang-seong pondered.
Not just any family—the Namgung secrets they'd bury deep. Worth knowing? He weighed pros and cons.
No long hesitation. Secrets didn't last in the jianghu. Hiding just delayed the reveal.
"Speak."
"Current Namgung lord is Sword Tablet, but Poison Wing Sword ranks above. You know how he lost the arm."
"Poison Wing Sword behind it?"
"Patricide, in short."
Mujin spilled the details.
Hwangbo Jang-seong's face shifted wildly as he listened. He'd guessed some night chaos, but this truth defied imagination. An event that massive, in the dead of night?
"What group hit the Namgung Family?"
"They wield evil arts masterfully, treat people like bugs."
Mujin dropped minimal hints on the Demonic Cult of the Demon God. Snooping with half-baked power would end in ruin. The cult hadn't shown its tail yet. Likely silenced all who knew.
"Plotting that long, evil arts strong enough for Sword Emperor? No ordinary foes."
"Even demonic arts struggle against absolute masters."
If cheap tricks fooled absolutes, everyone would chase them. Why grind martial arts? Efficiency wins.
Demonic arts clue or not, absolute masters' mental fortitude was inhuman. Shaking that meant extraordinary evil arts.
"Never heard of exterminated cults or Mosan Sect arts subduing Sword Emperor level."
"If they wiped sects anyway, reasons existed."
Even Mujin and the Demon King didn't know the cult's exact roots. Tangled interest groups—hard to rule out Mosan or cult survivors.
"Still, the methods are crude and brutal."
"Crude tricks work best."
Fancy strategies aren't superior. Perfect strategy needs success as foundation. Brilliance flops without wins.
If their scheme succeeded, Five Great Families would've fractured, weakened.
"If they aim to shatter unity, bigger goals lurk."
"Nothing happens without purpose."
Hwangbo Jang-seong grimaced at hidden forces shaking the Five Great Families. Murim had enjoyed long peace—stagnation, really. Humans adapt to reality, growing complacent in peace unnoticed.
"Not the end, per your words."
"Likely more schemes afoot."
"But intel's thin."
"Without coincidences stacking, we wouldn't be talking."
Hwangbo nodded.
If the plot worked, it'd end as Namgung internal strife; Five Families crossed irreversible rivers. No spotting hidden hands. The more he heard, the creepier.
Hm?
Something didn't fit.
Hwangbo finally caught it.
Sword Emperor ranked top in Shinju Twenty-One Masters. Even his father, Fist King, had flaws compared. Never clashed, but still.
Hwangbo knew Fist King's weight. Retired from frontlines, yet unmatched in fist arts. Sword Tablet followed Sword Emperor's fame, but currently fell short.
"How'd they subdue Sword Emperor? That uproar would've thrown the whole Namgung Family into chaos."
"I beat him politely."
"...?"
Beat who?
Hwangbo wondered if Mujin was mocking him. Sword Emperor, no less. Insane or not, he was Sword Emperor.
And who beats politely?
How's a beating polite?
Announce the spot first for courtesy?
Hwangbo's thoughts tangled; words failed.
Recalling Mujin so far, didn't seem like a lie.
Ah!
Evil arts dulled his power. Normal Sword Emperor was sword sovereign. Near-peerless in sword arts, hailed absolute sword master. Not for nothing Namgung's greatest swordsman ever.
"Old guy, but he put up a fight."
"...?"
What law!
"Put up a fight"? Sword Emperor?
Hwangbo questioned himself more today. Talking to this guy, nothing normal. Every line like this? A talent, if anything.
Jianghu's vast—who trashes Sword Emperor like that? Shinju Twenty-One aren't roadside pebbles.
'This punk thinks he could take my dad too?'