Eun Manor Escort Request (1)

It's been a year and a half since I went from a modern guy to a murim warrior.

In that time, wandering all over the jianghu, I'd developed one clear goal. Or maybe I should call it a dream.

Owning my own house.

A place where no one could bother me, where I could live comfortably on my own.

You might think it's ridiculous—wanting a house in the murim world, of all places, when this isn't 21st-century Korea. To anyone who says that, I'd just beg them to try living as an elf in the murim for even a single day.

After spending all day every day hiding your face behind a stuffy bamboo hat and veil, you'd crave your own private space like nothing else.

To be honest, I'd lost ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠track of the last time I'd properly seen sunlight.

I'd pathologically avoided showing my face to anyone, so it was only natural.

I couldn't live like this forever.

That's why my dream was to buy a massive manor that anyone would envy, then live it up all by myself.

Maybe with Ryeong-ah by my side, too.

That "big score" she'd mentioned was the stepping stone to it. I'd been obsessed with the phrase for a while—not so much lately, but still.

She must've overheard me.

"What the hell is this big score anyway?"

After sunset, I returned to the inn I'd stopped by for lunch.

Come at night if you want the details, he'd said. What kind of job was he trying to push on me to go this far?

The lively buzz of daytime was gone; the inn at night felt solemn, almost grave.

But it wasn't closed.

Creak—

I quietly pushed open the inn's door and stepped inside.

The place where Ryeong-ah worked as an errand boy, and where I'd flashed my gold token to eat for free. This seemingly ordinary inn transformed completely after dark.

Wandering Swordsman Inn.

Think of it like a mercenary guild in a fantasy story. It was one of Haomen's businesses.

If the Mountain Bandit Uncle managed the wandering swordsmen, this inn was where they picked up jobs.

I had no idea why they separated the two, but whatever.

No one paid me any mind as I entered, unlike the daytime. A few glances flicked my way, then vanished.

This was a space for clients and the ronin taking commissions—maybe middlemen too. That was the true nature of the Wandering Swordsman Inn.

As I stood blankly near the entrance, someone finally called out to me.

"This way."

Before I could see who it was, a tap on my shoulder led me deeper into the inn. I followed.

My middleman stood half-hidden in the shadows by the kitchen, face partially obscured.

Why's he striking such a dramatic pose? It didn't suit him at all.

I approached the innkeeper of the Wandering Swordsman Inn—the man who'd sent Ryeong-ah to summon me tonight.

"So, what's the job?"

"As expected of a gold token ronin endorsed by Haomen. I didn't think you'd cut straight to business."

With a sly grin, the innkeeper stepped out of the shadows, revealing his face.

A rat-like mustache drooping in perfect arcs, a few limp strands of goatee. He had a shifty look, but this uncle was no ordinary guy.

By day, he played innkeeper, but he was essentially Haomen's Gangseo Province branch number two.

For now, though, he was my client.

"What else would we talk about at your workplace? Especially dragging me out in the dead of night."

"Haha, it couldn't be helped—this is a job that needs to stay confidential. Bear with me. More importantly, aren't you curious how Ryeong-ah's been?"

This uncle kept dodging the point.

"I saw her earlier today, and she looked fine."

"I've raised her like my own child. A promise is a promise."

"I trust you'll keep doing that. Now spill—what's the job? Ryeong-ah called it a big score."

Big score.

Even black path folks who loved to exaggerate were pretty strict about jobs.

It wasn't nothing, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited.

That's why I was pushing harder than usual.

The innkeeper glanced around suspiciously, as if he had no ears, then spoke in a low voice.

"An escort request for transporting goods."

Haomen wasn't issuing it directly this time—just brokering.

"Who's the client?"

"You know Eun Manor? They need guards for some cargo heading to their main family."

Eun Manor. One of the few white path families in black path-infested Gangseo Province.

They even had legitimacy as a distant branch of the prestigious Danmok Family.

Seemed like they were outsourcing escorts to Haomen for goods moving from Eun Manor to Danmok Family.

"What're they transporting?"

"That's top secret—I can't say. But the pay is solid, so trust me on that."

"You expect me to escort without knowing what's in the cargo?"

The innkeeper rolled his eyes. Forget Haomen—at times like this, he was black path through and through.

He finally sighed.

"Haa, fine, the truth."

"No secrets between us, right?"

"Truth is, neither I nor Haomen knows what Eun Manor's moving. We only know they need someone at gold token level or higher."

So, no details on the cargo, but they needed a top-tier expert who'd obey like a dog.

In short—

"This stinks from a mile away."

This is the big score? I regretted getting my hopes up.

Using outsiders for a job needing peak experts was suspicious from the start.

Eun Manor and Danmok Family weren't nobodies—they'd have plenty of their own people.

Outsourcing the transport itself screamed half-assed security, no matter how secret the contents.

Yet they insisted on outsiders over family?

My senses, honed from a year and a half in the murim, screamed warning. It was dangerous without even seeing it.

Money aside, could I even survive?

I glared at the innkeeper who'd hyped this as a big score.

He averted his eyes, as if guilty, even though my veil hid my expression.

"No one else took it but me, right?"

"No idea. You're the first we approached."

"Pass. Hard pass."

I waved him off irritably.

Dragging me out here at night for crap like this? A big score?

"Pays well, I assume?"

"No doubt there."

Still, my mind was made up.

Manors and dream homes were great, but you needed to be alive first.

One slip in this world, and you'd end up headless like the Bone-Breaking Ghost.

Still...

I'd hear the pay. Pure curiosity.

"Exactly how much? You can't tell me you don't know that."

Instead of answering, the innkeeper held out his hand. Five spread fingers.

"Five taels of silver?"

Black path bastards were hopeless. The bounty on that villain Bone-Breaking Ghost was ten taels of silver.

Five wasn't chump change, but for a big score? Nah.

Exaggerating pay? I'd bite because it was me—any other ronin would've walked by now.

"No, gold taels."

The innkeeper corrected. My eyes widened behind the hat.

"F-five gold taels?"

One gold tael equaled twenty silver. Five gold? A hundred silver.

After Haomen's cut, still ninety silver.

Nine Bone-Breaking Ghosts. And that was one of Haomen's top bounties.

For real?

Ninety silver plus my Ghost bounty money, and a manor was within reach.

"We know it's risky, so feel free to refuse. Gold token ronin are rare, but we can call from another branch if needed."

Sensing my waver, he dangled the bait in the brief pause.

"Then regretfully, no deal—"

"Wait!"

I grabbed the innkeeper as he turned.

"What's wrong? Don't tell me you've changed your mind? Honestly, I'd prefer you refused. I can't send a valuable asset like you on something this dangerous."

"...I'll do it."

"What? I didn't hear."

"I'll do it! Please, let me take it!"

I groveled to the innkeeper.

Why else be a ronin?

Life was priceless, but sometimes you had to gamble.

Five gold taels?

Too much to pass up.

The day appointed with Eun Manor arrived before I knew it.

I washed up early in the morning and headed to the rendezvous, where I saw a group gathered.

Spotting their affiliation was easy—everyone wore white robes emblazoned with a massive "" character.

Not like they needed to advertise they were white path righteous sect types or anything. What was with that?

Actually, maybe that was the point.

From my brief murim experience, black path were straight-up villains, while white path had a bit of show-off syndrome.

I approached the Eun Manor warriors surrounding wagons loaded with cargo.

"Step back. Approach without permission again, and I'll cut you down."

Shing.

The response was sharply on edge.

Right—they wouldn't know I was the Haomen escort, even if I knew them.

Still, drawing swords first thing? Overkill for righteous sect folks.

I almost bulldozed through with black path intimidation, then remembered they were white path and reined it in.

Righteous sect or not, they had common sense.

"I'm here on a Haomen commission. Word should've reached Eun Manor, right?"

I cleared my throat and spoke. Even to me, it was a lovely, high-pitched voice.

The Eun Manor warriors' faces twisted oddly.

"So you're saying a little lady like you is the gold token ronin?"

See? White path were different. A black path crew would've slashed first in this situation.

They'd draw and swing without reason.

Speaking of, "little lady." It'd been ages since I'd heard that.

After "bitch" and "cunt" and "whore," it felt refreshingly novel.

"That's right. Problem?"

"No issue, but wait a moment."

The warriors huddled, whispering, then one dashed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠off—probably to fetch the boss.

Soon, he returned with a dignified middle-aged man of heavy presence.

"I heard the story. Got proof of your identity?"

I pulled out my gold token and showed it.

"Authentic."

The middle-aged warrior examined it briefly, then handed it back.

"That settles it?"

"Verification complete. However..."

He trailed off.

No mention of my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gender, but I caught the mutter.

Not unusual—I'd dealt with it plenty. Probably the expected reaction.

Female masters weren't rare in murim, but black path or ronin ones? Almost unheard of.

And look at my getup.

Baggy changpo robe flapping, face wrapped tight under a black bamboo hat. Anyone would suspect assassin.

That explained the unrest since I showed up.

Luckily, Eun Manor's leader was more reasonable than expected.

"Quiet down! What does gender matter in martial arts? If you don't want to shame Eun Manor, treat her properly."

See? White path righteous. Fundamentally different from black path.

"As a gold token ronin, this isn't your first escort. No need to explain, I trust."

He clearly had history with Haomen.

My job was simple: step in if transport hit snags. Otherwise, coast.

Thinking about it, five gold taels for this? Easiest gig ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ever.

"Depart!"

With the middle-aged man's deep command, the wagons rolled.

I followed the procession, keeping some distance from the warriors.

Wait for me, five gold taels.

Your big sis—no, your bro—is coming!

At the moment Eun Manor's procession set off, someone overlooking from a nearby mountain moved their lips.

A rare murim technique usable only by a select few peak experts: sound transmission into secrecy.

Hazy figures shot after the procession like arrows.