Chapter 76
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Translator: Penny
Chapter: 76
Chapter Title: You Think Money Can Buy Everything? (1)
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Even for a minor sect like ours, they threw a three-day feast.
They spread the word throughout the Qingyang region to celebrate the Little Dragon Tournament victory. No big-name figures showed up like they would for a prestigious sect's event, but Father made sure not to lose any goodwill.
It took a full two weeks for the excited buzz from the celebration to die down. For a kids' tournament, no less—it really showed how low their expectations were. When had the Pine Tiger Sect ever even made a mark in martial world history?
Whoosh! Whoosh!
"Come catch me if you can!"
A child and a cat were playing hide-and-seek.
Thud thud thud, pat pat pat!
They streaked right past his eyes. It was dizzying enough to make anyone's head spin, but Mujin saw it all crystal clear.
Mujin sat on the veranda, watching Mijoo and So play in the courtyard. His wife was swamped handling the sect's affairs. Without her, this place wouldn't run for a single day. What a talent shortage. His wife was truly the best.
Then his mood soured.
Crack!
Cheolho, reeling from the sharp impact, turned to Mujin.
"Why?"
"No good."
"What did I do?"
"I saw you."
"Can't I even look?"
"It's wearing thin. Stop looking."
How dare he.
If that gaze harbored any funny ideas, it'd be a brutal execution. Even for the future Iron King, Daddy's fragile heart wouldn't show mercy.
"You'll get it when you have a daughter of your own... Urk."
Imagining a long-haired girl with Cheolho's face nearly made him hurl. Not the thing to say in front of the kid, but blood couldn't lie.
At least marriage prospects were slim to none. Overcoming that face required ironclad nerves—and a love grand enough to embrace it all.
Harder to believe than tales of guys who never look at faces.
Still, if he insisted without a thought for his future kids, he absolutely shouldn't have a daughter.
What did the daughter do wrong!
For the future—for the martial world—he had to sire a son. Even solitary celibacy beat that alternative.
"I don't want one either... Kugh!"
"You insolent punk, how dare you insult my daughter!"
Cheolho flinched as fury boiled inside. Which tune was he supposed to dance to? He might die of frustration at this rate.
Yet he stuck around because he was growing stronger. Ever since meeting this man, he'd trained relentlessly without a day's rest. For his sect and master's long-cherished wish, it was unavoidable.
'This is too much.'
The wounds from Mujin were something he could brush off as par for the course now... not quite immune, but close. But Mijoo's innocent remark the first time they met had hit like a thunderbolt.
With those pure, unblemished eyes, she'd bluntly stated the facts. It would've stung less if she'd known and said it anyway.
"Daddy's friend?"
How am I that old man's friend! He'd rather take a beating.
Watching Mujin doubled over laughing beside her, he realized: This guy's no human.
'She is pretty, though.'
Cheolho had mistaken Mijoo for a living doll at first sight too. Her baby fat cheeks framed sharp, distinct features that were irresistibly cute and charming.
He could see why his second master doted on her. He'd do the same with a daughter like that.
'But she's not exactly normal either.'
Mijoo had the Pine Tiger Sect's cuteness all to herself. She had a knack for brightening anyone's mood just by being seen. Her antics were adorable, and she knew it.
But reality differed.
She wielded monstrous inner power and had freakish talent.
Look at her now.
Playing hide-and-seek with a tiger-fast cat—it was a blur to the eyes. Underestimate her as a kid, and you'd regret it big time.
How is she only eight?
This family grew less human the more you learned. And that cat? Calling it a normal feline was a stretch. No cat could resize itself at will.
'Heartless monster!'
The day he returned, Mujin dragged him and his little brother up the mountain. In a familiar clearing scarred by old traces, Mujin beat the brother senseless one-sidedly.
'Peak realm.'
Beaten into the Peak realm... no, frustration realm.
Shouldn't he be bedridden?
The enraged Peak expert charging in fury was terrifying. But the Thousand-Mile-No-Wind momentum crumbled like a candle in the breeze before his master. Poof—gone in a puff.
'Why live like this?'
Cheolho's hardest puzzle was this master. He possessed strength beyond human limits, immeasurable even. Yet a monster like that got treated like dust in the sect—existent or not.
Usually, that happened when someone hid their power. But not here. He wasn't the type to skulk. If hiding was the goal, he wouldn't have caused that ruckus in the Nangong family.
"Just curious, but why live like this?"
"What's wrong with how I live? This is success."
"With that skill, you'd be famous across the continent."
"All pointless."
Cheolho felt an odd vibe from Mujin's self-mocking gripe. Like facing a battle-hardened veteran.
As they killed time, word came from Father.
"He requests you in the office."
"Got it."
He'd have asked why back then, but Mujin headed straight there. Before leaving, he made sure to glare Cheolho into line.
Mijoo had a slight attachment to that oddly shaped thing. Cheolho was dangerously unique.
'Better safe than sorry.'
-Marry them off!
In the office sat Father and Elder Jeon. First time seeing this since handing over the vice sect leader title.
"Sit."
"Yes."
Father looked flushed, unlike usual. The elders wore suspicious frowns, though why was unclear. Calling him here with those faces—familiar, comfortable even.
He reflected a bit on past failures to earn trust. But he listened well now.
"Rumors are spreading."
"I see."
"Not curious?"
"No."
If it was about money, wait it out. If false, correct it. If they didn't believe, fists would convince. People came to believe after enough beatings. Or became corpses.
Father eyed Mujin's calm oddly; elders coughed in displeasure.
Like they hoped for confession and redemption.
"They say you beat the String Sword."
"Ah, that."
"Not a name to take lightly."
"Beating one punk gets rumors flying—world's gotten kinder."
"...?"
Punk? Who?
Calling the String Sword—that? Eyes turned incredulous to Mujin. Not just anyone—the Zhuge clan's top sword of the Five Swords. Calling their pinnacle fighter a punk? If the String Sword were here, it'd be grounds for a chokehold takedown.
Elders soured.
If String Sword's a punk, what are we?
No way, right?
"You brat! Utterly arrogant. The String Sword represents the Zhuge clan."
"Zhuge clan's a martial house, no? Fair duel."
"You humiliated him before everyone."
"World where skill loses means shame. Train harder then."
Train?
Noses and ears clogged.
Mujin of all people shouldn't mention training. No one had seen him train. He lounged, ate, slept—a total slacker.
They'd left him be lately since he ignored sect business, unlike before.
"Zhuge clan might hold a grudge."
"So, you're saying I brought harm to the sect. Then cast me out."
"You punk! Can't you speak properly?"
"Bad from the start. Fearing to touch a famed house without checking right or wrong isn't right. Right?"
"Talks smooth but can't solve it."
Elder Kang Cheon-myeong never approved of Mujin's conduct, but blood was blood. Hearing him demand exile sparked anger. No matter how worthless, you don't discard kin. If he thought that, a good spanking would set him straight.
"Not hard."
"Not hard? You say it like you have a way."
"Huangbo clan sent a marriage proposal. Oh, didn't mention?"
"Of course you'd... What? Who proposed?"
"Their son and Huangbo Seryeong."
Silence fell at Mujin's bombshell. Why hide such crucial news? Suspicion hung thick.
Still, ties to Huangbo clan mattered.
"And this is from the Sword Emperor."
He pulled out the Ascending Heaven Token.
Nothing convinced like this. Handy whenever words failed.
"What's this?"
"Ascending Heaven Token. Never heard? They say Nangong clan gives it only to benefactors."
"How'd a punk like you get this treasure?"
"Good karma."
Karma? More like calamity!
Elders debated the token's authenticity. Dubious, but its material was peerless white jade. Rare value alone. The carving screamed master craftsmanship and noble house prestige.
Forging one? Unthinkable. Rumors would bring Nangong wrath.
"Problem solved, right?"
"...Should've been careful."
Even Elder Kang, paling, couldn't blame Mujin further. Praise seemed fitting, but awkward.
Oddities piled up. Arrogant show-off type.
Beat String Sword, yet rumors only now? He'd stayed mum till then—a blind spot emerging. Normally, he'd brag nonstop upon return.
'No way!'
'What schemes is he up to?'
'Never seen him train.'
Fresh to Mujin. Not seeking favoritism, yet they were surprisingly easygoing.
"Huangbo clan formally requests the proposal."
"Should've said right away!"
"Getting old—memory fuzzy."
"We praised you, and look—hubris unbound."
Storm passed, calm returned. Overwhelming events piled on.
Worried over humiliating String Sword? Unfounded. Luck rolled in whole.
Mujin strutted proudly.
"Hurts I approved marriage on my own?"
"Who said that!"
"Return the token?"
"Can't spurn the giver's intent!"
"More issues?"
"We'll watch."
Three elders fled awkwardly; jobless Mujin rose too.
Father grabbed his hand.
"Follow me."
"Hands off."
Hmm.
Hands only for wife.
'Purity first.'
-Bullshit.
Father dragged him to the private training ground. Intent obvious. They'd sparred sporadically, so Father's doubt in the String Sword rumor made sense. Objectively, Father lagged behind.
"Give full power."
"Really?"
Father's stern face was rare. Upset over the secrecy, probably.
"Mock your father again, and I'll thrash you!"
"If you insist."
He'd held back for Father's pride, but if unappreciated, no choice. Fathers had warrior egos too.
Mujin granted Father's wish. He added a new form to the practice sword racked in the yard.