Chapter 78
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: You Think Money Buys Everything? (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
They must have investigated on the way over and gathered information on Mujin by now. That was why Yeo Woon-sang wasn't surprised by the warriors' unusual reactions. If a hidden dragon revealed itself, it meant the time had come.
So he placed his trust in him.
Hiding himself for all those long years couldn't have been easy. He judged that Mujin possessed both the patience to conceal his grand ambitions and the insight to read the currents of the times.
-You're delusional. This guy's just living without a thought in his head!
'Quit your whining. Are you really the Demon King?'
Regardless of intent, things were somehow working out perfectly. That fact alone irritated the Demon King. Only through failures and repeated mistakes could things unfold according to his plans. It only made him more displeased.
"You've made your decision."
"Just as you anticipated. However, you must share the responsibility if the development fails."
He was staking the merchant group's fate on nothing but trust. If the mine development failed, the Jeong Un Merchant Group would struggle to gain a foothold in Anhui. Proper responsibility had to be assigned.
"That's a given."
"We'll stake the merchant group's future on you, young master."
Mujin agreed to provide the initial development funds. In truth, once the mine was operational, costs could be covered by the gold extracted from it. The documents stipulated that the Jeong Un Merchant Group would handle that part.
"But what do you plan to use these goods for?"
"They're gifts for my family."
Huh?
Yeo Woon-sang checked his ears to make sure they weren't failing him—they were fine. He wondered if he'd misplaced his bet on the merchant group's fate.
When the Songho Sect inspected the goods transported by the Jeong Un Merchant Group, all hell broke loose.
Clothes in every color imaginable, an array of expensive jewelry, exquisite crafts and ornaments from master artisans, famous teas and silks from various regions, and even curious Western items emphasizing convenience.
Rare treasures that were hard to even glimpse piled up like mountains. There was so much that just packing them was a challenge, let alone organizing.
"Look at the fabric on these clothes—pure silk, all of it."
"And the embroidery and patterns."
"What's that one? Looks like a phoenix about to ascend."
"How much do you think all this costs?"
Just looking around drew gasps of admiration, but one conclusion emerged. How much value was stacked up like these mountains? Items they couldn't afford in a lifetime of earnings.
Mujin stood before the mountain of gifts and spoke to his wife.
"Thank you for marrying me."
"These are all for me?"
"Of course! They're all yours."
"You've got quite the emergency fund."
"……?"
Mujin, who had unleashed this barrage of gifts to see his wife's touched expression, froze as if struck by the Han-guk Cheon-bing-jang of the North Sea Ice Palace. She'd pierced right through an angle he hadn't even considered.
Yujin smiled brightly, easing his stiffened expression.
"I'm kidding."
"Right."
Mujin had just barely relaxed when his wife's next action turned him pale. Her eyes sharpened as she inspected each item like an appraiser.
She immediately dove into calculations. True to her merchant lineage, she was meticulous. Not a single item escaped evaluation.
"Roughly seventy thousand nyang, and with transport costs, about eighty thousand nyang."
"……It's not about the money—it's the thought that counts."
At this point, wasn't the money more important than the thought?
The warriors listening in watched Mujin and Yujin with keen interest. How many spectacles rivaled eavesdropping on a couple's banter? Especially one involving eighty thousand nyang in gifts—a rare sight indeed.
'I wish I got gifts like that.'
'How much did he skim to afford this?'
The onlookers' thoughts split evenly. Some admired the husband's generosity in piling up jewels as thanks for their life together, while others wondered where the money came from.
"No way the sect's funds could cover this."
"Obviously. I didn't touch a single coin from the sect. I earned all this myself—for you."
Yujin made it clear he hadn't dipped into the sect's coffers. A wise move to dispel any odd suspicions. Humans were creatures of doubt, and piled-up doubts inevitably bred resentment.
"You're not upset I didn't mention it?"
"Upset? Have you ever seen a woman who hates gifts? Thank you."
"You're the only one for me."
"Still, it's wasteful. I might sell a few."
"That's exactly why I married you."
Truly, he'd chosen a wise wife. Even amid this, she identified unnecessary items to cut waste. No other wife like her.
-You madman!
'Did I build her a palace? Buy her a kingdom? This is frugal.'
This much for the woman he loved was nothing. Besides, Yujin had borne him a fine son and an utterly adorable daughter. She served his parents well too. She deserved a life without lifting a finger.
"Daddy, what about me?"
"Of course our princess has hers too."
He pulled out colorful candies and snacks—regional specialties from each province. He hoped they'd suit his daughter's tastes.
"I love you, Daddy!"
Mijoo hugged him and kissed his cheek.
Ah, this is why we live.
Life wasn't complicated. Seeing his daughter happy filled him more than any meal.
Mujin felt like he owned the world. With his family like this, what was there to fear?
Thud!
Cheol-ho lightly tapped Taejin's shoulder amid the onlookers. Taejin, delayed by training, had been watching his father, mother, and little sister's joyful scene.
"You sure you didn't pick them up under a bridge?"
"Say that again and you're dead!"
Should he slip in naturally now? Taejin pondered. But joining that circle felt too pathetic at this point.
Asking about his own gift now would just be embarrassing.
"We'll take pity, but we won't lose."
"When have you ever won? Who's pitiful?!"
"You punk—let's fight!"
"Bro, you human?"
This damn brother of his—did he have no sense of the mood? His suffocating consistency was unrivaled under heaven.
Mujin's extravagant gift offensive kept the sect buzzing all day. Married warriors especially found no peace. Who piled gifts like mountains while they hadn't even bought a ring? That night, many sulked outside their rooms. The heartburned ones drank till morning, only to get an earful from their wives.
"Son, did you really have to go that far to vent?"
"Can't I buy gifts for my wife with my own money?"
"Wasn't it a bit too much?"
"Too much? It's still not nearly enough."
Father and son faced off in the sect leader's private training ground.
Kang U-gyeong had given his all as sect leader to sustain the sect, yet he fell short as a husband. All because of his son's outrageous gift spree. To match the wedding anniversary, at least half—no, a quarter of Mujin's display, right?
"Do you know how hurt your mother was?"
"You could do it too, Father."
Mujin's nonchalant retort. If his son could, what stopped the father? Pure laziness.
Fury surged!
Had he ever seen such an infuriating kid?
Whose son is this... Ahem.
Kang U-gyeong hesitated to blame his parenting. After all, his son had reached the Flower Realm—a mark of absolute mastery. At that age, nearing absolute realm was farming success enough.
Yet lately, every action grated on him.
"You've got a great daughter-in-law enjoying the luxuries thanks to you."
"……Thanks."
The boy might be an eyesore, but the daughter-in-law was sharp. She handled the sect's major and minor affairs.
And she even offered his wife bribes... er, gifts to soothe her. Seeing her prioritize family harmony, he praised his life choices.
"Plus, having such a fine son saves face with the elders, right?"
"I'd rather die."
Kang U-gyeong, who had gained insight from sparring his son, couldn't deny it. His morning bout with his nephew had stunned everyone. Denying his inner pride would be self-deception.
Still, he couldn't voice pure approval—because of the son before him.
"To my father's Flower Realm."
"……I said I'm good!"
Who did he think he was boasting to? His father stood right there.
"My father always said, 'Just do it.' I've engraved those words like gospel."
"……You holding a grudge?"
"I'm your son. How could I ignore my father's love?"
Love, he called it—brutal reality of beatings.
Why had he said that? If given another chance, Kang U-gyeong never would.
But it was too late. Far too late by the time he realized.
Screeech!
Mujin's sword qi sliced the space vertically.
In an instant.
Without survival instincts kicking in, his body might have split in two. Kang U-gyeong broke into cold sweat at his son's ferocious sword qi.
"Son, what kind of sword qi is that savage?!"
"You can do it, Father!"
No, I can't, you brat!
'What sin did I commit in a past life?'
He desperately wanted to bolt. But the serpent-like aura lurking inside wouldn't let even a hint of defiance slide.
Urk!
Any resistance brought agony that tore through his meridians. And that talk of shitting blood in a month? Spot on. He wouldn't die, but it felt like death.
He'd shat blood the whole way here. Every meal brought dread of sleep's torments.
'Damn it... Urk!'
No!
Why the misunderstanding and tantrum?!
After untold hardships, he'd found it. But the moment he reached for it, terror struck. An unexpected obstacle blocked him. Impossible alone. He'd barely escaped with his life.
'What do I say?'
He waited for nightfall. When darkness blanketed, he vaulted the wall.
"Where do you think you're sneaking in empty-handed?!"
Gasp!
He'd just cleared the wall when the devil awaited. Even his fully suppressed presence via Heavenly Stealth Art failed.
Her expression remained the same—arrogant flea, no matter how you jumped. Rare how well it suited her.
"Follow me first."
"I... Gahk!"
Mujin grabbed Na-rung by the collar and soared into the sky.
His flight technique covered dozens of jang per step. Na-rung's face turned blue. So fast his facial flesh peeled back, exposing bone contours. Wind filled his mouth and nose, sating his hunger.
Hweeeeeek!
Bwoooooom!
Dragged deep into the mountains, Na-rung was half out of his mind. He'd never imagined someone flying with the Wind Flight Technique—let alone carrying him.
'This is too much!'
For Na-rung, it was a quagmire escape-proof even in dreams. His sliver of hope shattered.
"Nice spot to die, huh?"
"……Spare me!"
"If you wanted to live, you'd have brought the Mythical Horse Spirit Armor."
"Circumstances! No time, and an unexpected obstacle—I couldn't!"
"Save excuses for King Yama."
Seeing Mujin's indifferent face, Na-rung sensed it.
This guy has no regrets.
Not just any treasure—the Mythical Horse Spirit Armor, said to hold the Heavenly Martial One's arts, famed across millennia. Why no attachment? Any warrior would covet it.
"It's the Heavenly Martial One's divine art embodying heaven's martial might. Why...?"
"I'm stronger. Satisfied?"
"……?"
Even quick-witted, sly Na-rung found no retort. Too textbook, too smug. How to persuade that? Answers preset. Self-loathing hit—live shitting blood forever?
Worst, it rang utterly true. Recalled the casual Wind Flight and Sword Aura Reinforcement.
'This dogshit... Huh?!'
Kraaaaaaaa!
Realizing his slip, Na-rung rolled screaming. Pain so intense he couldn't close his mouth. Only after half a gak did the inner serpent rage subside.
Whew, thought I was dead.
He'd barely stood, sighing too soon.
"You cursed."
"……My apologies!"
"Spar before you die."
"……Please~!"