Rehabilitation Exercise and Vendetta
"Kids, did you eat well?"
"Yes, husband."
"Yes, big sis."
"Does our little O-ryeong get thorns in her mouth if she doesn't call me husband? Whatever. Call me whatever's comfy. If you don't wanna be my wife, that's fine too."
"Eung."
O-ryeong let out an adorable sound and threw herself into my arms. I chuckled and bounced her up and down. Midway through, Yuk-ryeong was giving me those sneaky hopeful eyes, so in the end both my hands got heavy—but that weight actually made it all feel real. Like, I actually saved these kids and brought them back alive, that kinda embarrassingly sappy thought.
If I'd said that to the slave, he'd probably turn it into some annoying lecture instead of letting it be sappy, so I swallowed it down.
"Slave."
"Yes."
"You gonna throw that out or what? Beggars over there."
We stepped out of the inn, and sure enough, a few beggars were milling about. Ragged, smelly types slinking around, hoping for scraps or leftovers to scavenge. Perfect timing too, with our hands full of heavy noodles—or noodle porridge, really.
"They're beggars, but strong beggars."
"Strong beggars? If they're strong, why beg?"
"This lowly one has no ill feelings toward the Beggars' Sect and respects the sect leader, Iron Beggar Senior, but these guys are different. They're not even fellow Beggars' Sect disciples—just able-bodied adult beggars with all their limbs intact, right?"
"So what."
"If they were blind or lame despite being grown men, I'd gladly give alms. But they're not."
In short, no handouts for healthy lazies begging instead of working. Better to give to kids or elders who had no choice, or the disabled.
"Most healthy beggars don't stop at just begging—they bully weaker ones to steal their food. No need to show mercy to those types, right?"
"But that's exactly why you should feed 'em. This stuff won't keep anyway, and once their bellies are full of noodles, even lazy asses won't bother beating up other beggars for scraps, yeah? Or would they? Human greed's a wild card."
"Indeed... That's a valid perspective. You sometimes drop these unexpected insights, milady."
"You mocking me?"
The slave slyly averted his eyes.
"Still, I don't feel the need to give alms to those sorts."
"Fine. It's your food—dump it or scatter it, your call."
I ignored his whiny complaints about the noodle porridge the lady boss handed over being too heavy.
Instead, I glanced down at O-ryeong and Yuk-ryeong, bellies full and waddling sleepily. Time for something more productive.
"My wives. Wanna do anything?"
"Um, me! Kite-flying and hide-and-seek..."
"Not that. Let's talk a bit about your futures. While we stroll."
Honestly, a tough question for kids this young. But that's why I had to ask. If you don't even vaguely think about it as a kid, by adulthood it'll be way worse than just "tough."
"Eung..."
"Eeng."
As expected, they had no clue. Not weird. I don't even plan my own future—why would they?
Plans rarely go as intended anyway. Still, better to think vaguely ahead.
"Can't I be your wife, husband?"
"I wanna live with sis."
"Kids, uh, I did say call me husband, but..."
At my age, taking you as wives? That's straight-up crime. Crime. And how the hell am I supposed to support you forever?
"Still, gotta set you up somewhere safe. Slave, what do you think?"
"They're too young and need adult protection, that's true. But since milady enjoys adventures and plans to keep wandering the jianghu... can't drag kids on long journeys."
Right. I'm not the settling-down type. Haven't gotten what I want yet.
Ah, shit—still no proper martial arts manual. That Wangjak bastard didn't have one on him. Makes sense; no reason to carry it around.
That last move, Mighty Bear Split Hoof Strike or whatever? Seemed legit. But even if I'd learned it, it'd probably look ridiculous. Dude's sword arts won't come out, just punches into kicks—what a joke technique.
"No. Slave."
"Yes."
"Is my humble dream of snagging one decent martial art that wrong?"
"I wouldn't know. This lowly one was raised in Wudang from childhood, so I've never felt a lack."
"Oh, lucky you."
He really was top-tier. Born with talent, master, sect—full deluxe murim starter pack. I treat him casual 'cause he's my slave, but Cheong-yong's one of the noted young experts here. Kid's got the nickname Azure Dragon, for fuck's sake. He doesn't brag to me about it, though. Smart—no point; it'd just embarrass him and earn him shit-talk anyway.
"How'd we get off-track? Right. Anyway, that's why I'm stumped on what to do with you two. Dumping you on the Pyeong Family's obvious freeloading. No other options jumping out."
"What about Wudang?"
"Same issue. Offloading two kids ain't freeloading?"
"One of our sect's roles is rescuing orphans. Two more won't be a problem."
"Really?"
"Yes."
Wudang the best bet? Kinda worried they'd turn out like the slave, but no better ideas.
"Still, can't show up empty-handed; looks bad. On the way, wanna grab something..."
Even for housewarmings, you bring fruit. Can't go bare-handed. As I pondered gifts,
I realized the perfect way to make bank in this situation.
"Slave."
"Yes."
"Killing that Wangjak bastard taught me one thing."
"What?"
"The answer's grudges and debts."
"...Pardon?"
Why'd Wangjak cross rivers and mountains to kill us? Grudge.
Why'd the righteous sects react so mildly to his bullshit? Grudge.
In murim, grudges were like get-out-of-jail-free cards, sacred duel rules.
"As long as grudges are involved, killing in the street or robbing blind is all forgiven."
"Milady? That's... not quite right."
"Slave, I'm not saying make fake grudges."
I'd cut most loose ends last time. But one lingered.
"Let's sweep the Yeon Family survivors, grab their loot on the way."
Body's healing up—time for rehab exercise, right? We'd seen blood twice; we're mortal enemies sharing no sky. Perfect chance to settle grudge, snag wealth, and hey, their damn sword arts too. Yeon Family Sword Method. Family-named, so probably not trash.
"Whoa. Am I a genius?"
One raid: grudge cleared, riches, martial arts set. Best bundle deal ever.
"Milady. No."
"What."
"We've crossed blades, so unavoidable. And the Yeon Family's no better than an evil sect anyway."
Yeon Family raid: decided.
. . . . . . . . . .
"Damn it! What mad demonic bastard raided the main house?!"
Meanwhile, Yeon Family head Yeon-gyun was losing his shit.
Just a quick trip away for important business—left the estate defended—and in that short time, his clan crumbled.
Planned a celebratory drink for landing a sweet deal; came back to a yard full of corpses.
"Family head..."
"Hoo. It's fine. We haven't collapsed yet. That damn freak left our wealth, elixirs, and manuals untouched."
The new deal fizzled. Existing businesses shrunk or ditched; pulled underlings from Nam-chang spots to the estate. Had to, or vultures would've swarmed the weakened clan.
Lucky Black Mountain Faction got wiped out too—leader included—so predators were busy carving them up instead.
"But you're here, family head. Key forces who went with you for the deal are intact. Clan won't fall."
"...Yeah. Hired ronin with the untouched warehouse loot."
To fend off jackals, invited ronin as "guests." Three generations of connections and foundations helped.
But trusting them? That gnawed at him.
"How're the ronin?"
"Seem pleased with main house support. No slacking, bit rough but obey orders."
"Don't drop guard. Ronin or other factions—all the same. Show weakness, they turn. Send suspicious ones on suicide missions or outright kill 'em."
"Yes. Frame as mission failures."
"Good. I trust you."
Head throbbed. Near month of quashing threats left his neck stiff.
At least the grudge's trail wasn't cold. Yeon-gyun crumpled a portrait sketch.
No demon slaughters that many solo. Survivor testimonies made this—still on his desk. Memorize it; someday stab that foe's back.
Gnashing his teeth at the day's horrors in his mind, he roared,
"Don't care who you are! Come back, and this family head'll rip your bones from flesh and stew your guts!"
As Yeon-gyun vowed revenge at the sketch's woman,
"Hear ye, family and guests! An unnamed wanderer comes to settle grudges!"
The absurd declaration echoed from the main gate.
Ha-yeon thought: At least not a wasted trip.
Every step toward Yeon Clan home felt it. Plaque, building size—impressive. Land scale meant wealth; ornate structures, their might.
Decent haul potential.
Wide-brim bamboo hat low, Ha-yeon approached the gate.
"Hold. Who're you."
"Stop there. One more step, you die."
Gate guards, extra edgy post-disaster, growled with ugly mugs.
"Why should I listen and stop?"
No reason to obey. They hadn't earned respect.
"Told you to stop!"
"Fuck! Stop!"
Guards drew swords. But I walked on, steady pace.
"Tell your family head to come out—grudge with Yeon Family to settle. Then I'll stop."
"Die then."
My sincerity missed; one charged, sword out. I drew the slave's borrowed blade, rammed his gut.
"Gurk... Aaaagh!"
"Scream louder. Let the family head and everyone hear."
"Urk... Guh...!"
"Weak pipes. Gate guards need volume over strength."
Last visit's guard yelled decently, but fresh blood? Pathetic.
Slash. Beheaded him to ease it; shadow fell behind.
"Enemy!!!"
Another swung wildly, yelling. Fitting guard at least. Footwork and sword deflected the big swing; fist to solar plexus.
"Guhk."
Crunch of shattered ribs.
"Kill you or not."
"S-spare me."
"Wanna live? Yell it. I'm here to settle Yeon Family grudge."
"...Gr-great hero's name?"
"None."
"Ahem, then... *cough*. Unnamed wanderer okay?"
"Whatever."
Thus, the desperate guard's survival scream shook the Yeon estate.
Instinct-squeezed megaphone: impressive. Drunks stumbling from sleep, gamblers scattering from yard tables, paper-pushers, shirtless trainees—all grabbed weapons, rushed out.
Guard cautiously opened the gate wide, sidled behind me.
Not planned, but exposed my back.
Pain-clutching guard's mind birthed a nasty thought.
"Gonna stab me from behind?"
"No!"
"Be good."
Nasty thought crushed instantly.
"Lemme see."
Ignoring stares from the opened gate, kept walking. Crunching estate dirt underfoot.
Soon, a middle-aged man's voice: no more tolerance.
"Stop."
"Family head?"
"Yes. You bitch—boldly here to settle old grudge at the main house?"