Chuhongeom

The boy rolled his eyes, his expression openly baffled.

"So? Why would some rich young master go out of his way to meet the biggest scoundrel in Beijing?"

"Young master? Where do you see a young master here?"

Had I hit a nerve? The boy jerked his head back and forth in an exaggerated show of disbelief that was almost comical.

"Right in front of me."

That habit of looking down on everyone else, the way he’d deliberately picked the shabbiest clothes he could find, and yet still somehow looked too neat for a cheap dump like this inn—all of it proved his status was anything but low.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about."

Ting!

The moment he finished speaking, cheerful music rang in my ears.

As expected.

There was definitely something here.

So there really was something.

The options that surfaced were all vicious enough to make my skin crawl.

Killing intent, huh. So there’s an assassin hiding somewhere?

I hadn’t felt a thing.

Which meant the hidden killer was skilled enough that someone like me couldn’t possibly notice them.

If I hadn’t had the System’s help, I’d have lost my head already.

Thinking back to how rudely I’d treated the boy just now, it was a miracle my neck was still attached.

Rumble.

No sooner had the thought ended than the die began to roll.

18

Good.

By some stroke of luck, I’d hit the best possible number. My mouth started moving.

[Point out the boy's secret (15): The killing intent is so thick, it would be strange not to notice it.]

"The killing intent is so thick, it would be strange not to notice it."

That was a lie.

There was no killing intent—nothing at all, except the innkeeper’s nervous gaze on us.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about."

Of course, the boy had no idea, and he looked genuinely flustered.

"A conversation is something two people have from equal footing. By that standard, I’d say you have no intention of talking to me at all."

I tossed out the words as casually as breathing.

It was complete nonsense, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was whether I could unsettle him.

"Don’t tell me you don’t want the silver?"

After chewing on it in silence for a long moment, the boy blurted out something rather petty.

"Even without it, I won’t starve. Do you have any idea who I am?"

Of course it was a lie. The sheen of silver was already glittering in front of my eyes.

But I wasn’t entirely without confidence in this either.

If he came looking for a guy like me, then there’s got to be a reason he can’t back down easily either.

Who was Paeng Yeohun? A man whose dantian had been shattered, a useless cripple who could barely function as a martial artist. Someone scraping by at the very bottom, living day to day.

So if he’d gone out of his way to find me, there had to be a reason the boy himself couldn’t simply retreat without consequences.

"Hah."

The boy started chewing nervously on his thumbnail.

He figured it out?

Ridiculous.

The shadows guarding the boy weren’t on a level that Paeng Yeohun could detect.

It’s bluffing.

So the boy had judged my words to be a bluff.

A bluff meant to seize control of the conversation.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"A bluff, is it."

"Why do you think that?"

"There’s no way you could have noticed."

"No way I could have noticed? Then that means there really is someone guarding you."

The boy hastily clapped both hands over his mouth.

That was a mistake. A blatant mistake.

If his father had been watching, he would have clicked his tongue and scolded him hard for being a useless fool.

Was I testing him? No—too precise for a random guess.

The boy studied Paeng Yeohun closely.

Ordinary, on the surface. He might have some skill, since he’d dropped that thug in one move, but that was all.

That was the extent of it.

I meant to use him as a disposable piece.

Paeng Yeohun ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was a sacrificial pawn.

Exiled or not, he was still the eldest son of the Hebei Paeng Clan.

If someone killed him, they would draw the wrath of the Paeng Clan. And after that, the rest would be obvious.

Everything would be swept away by the enraged hands of the Paeng Clan. That had been the boy’s goal from the beginning.

But—

The notorious trash among trash, a fool who didn’t know his own place.

That was how the world generally described Paeng Yeohun.

So I thought he wouldn’t know how to handle it.

But the Paeng Yeohun standing before him now was different from that description in some subtle, unsettling way.

Every word he spoke was relaxed, and he toyed with his opponent with frightening ease.

It was impossible to believe he was the same man the rumors had described as a complete wastrel.

The boy grit his teeth.

He might need to revise his evaluation of this man.

What’re you staring at, you little brat? Keep thinking.

I was actually looking forward to what he’d say next.

By now he was probably burning up inside, trying to figure out the true meaning of what I’d just said.

Kids are cute only when they act like kids.

Children were supposed to have a child’s charm.

When one of them strutted around like the boy in front of me, wearing a face that looked like he’d already lived three lifetimes, it wasn’t cute. It was creepy.

"Damn it..."

After a long silence, the boy seemed to make up his mind at last, letting out a thick curse as if setting something down.

"Fine. There is a guard. I admit it."

"I figured as much."

"It’s late, but let me introduce myself. Byeok Unseong, eldest son and heir of the Byeokun Merchant Group."

Byeokun Merchant Group?

I distinctly remembered that name from the early part of Cheongyeoljeon. They’d sold all sorts of decent goods at fair prices, so I’d used them often enough.

"The Byeokun Merchant Group?"

"Yes, the Byeokun Merchant Group."

The boy, Byeok Unseong, shot me a sideways glance as if asking what was so strange about it.

I expected as much, but seeing it in person is still weird.

I hadn’t met anyone directly from the game itself, but meeting someone connected to it still felt strangely surreal.

"There’s only one reason I didn’t go to the Martial Alliance: no one would believe me if I told them. And there’s only one reason I came to you, sir. I need talent untouched by his hands."

Apparently he hadn’t yet noticed the second reason, so Byeok Unseong chose his words with utmost caution.

"Hmm?"

The moment I heard his explanation, the thought flashed through my head that I might have just stepped into something far more complicated than I’d expected.

And worse, I was already in too deep to pull myself out.

"That’s an interesting story. So?"

"If you want to hear more, say you’ll accept the request."

The little bastard was clever.

Just as you’d expect from the heir of a merchant group, he had a gift for provoking curiosity.

"Fine, that all sounds good. But I’ve got a condition of my own."

If I let myself get dragged around too easily, I’d lose whatever shred of adult dignity I had left.

I needed to make demands too.

Now that I knew his backing was solid, this was a chance to get my hands on something I’d given up searching for.

"A condition?"

"If I take the request, you’ll do one favor for me. If you don’t like it, then forget it."

"Hmm. May I ask what kind of favor?"

"That depends. I’ll tell you once you agree to my condition."

Byeok Unseong bit his lip slightly, looking as if he’d been dealt a nasty blow.

"...Very well. What do you want?"

"That, I’ll tell you after the job’s done."

"It doesn’t differ from the promise we—"

"So, that story you were going to tell me?"

I cut him off cleanly.

If he thought I’d obediently follow his lead, he was making a grave mistake.

"Urgh."

Byeok Unseong seemed to realize that if he kept talking now, he’d only get dragged in deeper. He bit his lip again.

"...I’ll continue what I was saying."

After a brief silence, Byeok Unseong put on a determined face and opened his mouth to reveal one truth to the world.

"Do you know Chuhongeom?"

"Chuhongeom?"

Wasn’t that the name of the man the drunks in the inn had been shouting about just now?

Is it some kind of trend?

"I know the name, yes."

"What if I told you I know where Chuhongeom is?"

Byeok Unseong’s face turned solemn as he spoke.

"You know where Chuhongeom is?"

Everything he was saying matched the conversation I’d just overheard from the inn’s customers.

It was the kind of story that didn’t feel remotely real.

"Yes. I know where Chuhongeom is."

"Hmm."

Though the boy’s expression had turned resolute, there was an air of finality to it that only made the whole thing more suspicious. It didn’t make me believe him; if anything, his dramatic posture made it feel even less trustworthy.

Something’s off.

I tapped my cheek in silence.

Byeok Unseong’s words weren’t just hard to believe—they were missing something fundamental.

"And how did you find me?"

Paeng Yeohun’s infamy might have spread far and wide through Beijing, but finding me in practice was no easy feat. The reason was simple.

Beijing is just too damn big.

Of course it was smaller than modern Beijing, but that didn’t mean the capital had somehow lost its scale.

Finding one man named Paeng Yeohun in all of Beijing was no easy task.

Much less when I was hiding away in some backwater place like Gurim Inn.

That was why it bothered me that a boy I’d never met before, Byeok Unseong, had managed to track me down.

"...I got a recommendation, and only found you today. Beijing is awfully big, after all."

When he finished speaking, Byeok Unseong avoided my eyes like someone with a guilty conscience.

He probably is telling the truth about the recommendation...

Still, the way his eyes kept wavering made it clear there was a lie mixed in there somewhere.

He acted like an adult, but he was still just a kid, and his inexperience showed in moments like this.

I can guess the rest.

If I narrowed down what sort of trouble might require a man like "Paeng Yeohun," the answer came easily enough.

Let’s push a little more.

One more step forward, and I could probably make Byeok Unseong confess what he was really thinking with his own mouth.

"Chuhongeom is a powerhouse with a bounty on his head from the Martial Alliance. If you know me, then you know I’m not going to be much help."

Chuhongeom.

If his skill was as the rumors claimed, then there was no chance of victory.

To begin with, even against an ordinary martial artist who knew how to swing a blade, I’d be hopelessly outmatched in my current state.

What good was a martial artist with a shattered dantian?

Even if my dantian had still been intact, I doubted I’d have been much use.

"Th-that’s..."

Under my question, Byeok Unseong looked away again, as if something was bothering him.

Just one step left.

One more ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠push, and I could break through the shield he’d raised completely.

And then—

Ting!

Time around me slowed, and a translucent window floated up before my eyes.

The moment I saw the choices, I figured whatever I picked, the end result would be roughly the same.

Maybe the System knew that too, because it didn’t bother demanding a high dice result this time.

Rumble.

7

The number that came up was 7.

[Point to the true purpose (5): You intended to use me as a disposable piece, didn't you?]

"You intended to use me as a disposable piece, didn't you?"

A bead of cold sweat rolled down Byeok Unseong’s cheek.

I misread him.

The Paeng Yeohun of rumor and the Paeng Yeohun standing before him now were practically different people.

Shit, this is getting tangled.

Byeok Unseong grit his teeth. He felt a need to revise his judgment of Paeng Yeohun, and at the same time, his head started pounding from how thoroughly the situation he’d thought was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠simple had gone sideways.

"Answer me."

I pressed him again.

I was only one step away from tearing down the wall he’d put up.

"D-damn it, yes. We needed the power of the Hebei Paeng Clan,"

At last, Byeok Unseong admitted what he really wanted.

But that alone didn’t answer everything.

"Why? If you’d just tell the Martial Alliance Chuhongeom’s location, they’d deal with it on their own without all this trouble."

At that, Byeok Unseong squeezed his eyes shut.

A brief, awkward silence hung between us.

Then, finally, as if he’d made up his mind, Byeok Unseong parted his lips.

"Because there’s a problem."

"What problem?"

Byeok Unseong drew in another deep breath.

"Because Chuhongeom's true identity..."

His voice was heavy when he continued.

"...is my father, Byeok Ungang."

I was left speechless. What the hell had this bastard just said?