Just Roll Again, Why Ask That?
A few days earlier.
After being ambushed by some bastard and hearing from Hyeol Hwa that the assassin was Ilgwon Pasan Cheon Seok-san, Won Seung couldn't sleep a wink. He wandered out into the garden, letting out a deep sigh.
"Ilgwon Pasan, huh... Should I call in the Kwon-wang or something?"
Ogu, passing by, overheard and paused to think for a moment.
The next day, Ogu donned a human-skin mask and slipped quietly out of Baekhwa Pavilion, heading straight for Su Chun Ru. It was a brothel where he'd run errands back when he was spying for Gu Ja-ang—a place that peddled all the juiciest Jianghu rumors floating around.
They compiled the gossip into a single-sheet rag (jirashi) that came out every full moon. To Ogu, most of it was absurd nonsense not worth the paper it was printed on... but Gu Ja-ang subscribed religiously, strutting around like some all-knowing strategist on top of Jianghu affairs.
That day, Ogu sold the tip that Ilgwon Pasan Cheon Seok-san was holed up in Gwangeonbang to the Su Chun Ru manager. With his sharp trading skills, Ogu pocketed a neat ten taels of silver.
On the way back, he bought four roast ducks. He, Won Seung, and Jong Bi each got one, and he split the last one between Hyeol Hwa and Yong Jo-un.
Ogu didn't bother telling Won Seung about it. Even if the intel made it into the jirashi, he doubted it'd reach the Kwon-wang's ears.
Unlike Ogu's skepticism, the Su Chun Ru manager knew a goldmine when he saw one. Real money-makers never made it to print.
A pigeon from the Hao Men Sangyang branch at Su Chun Ru took flight, and the note tied to its leg landed in the hands of the teahouse owner at the foot of Mount Tai just two days later.
The teahouse owner had a sweet deal with the Tai Shan Sect and pocketed a hundred taels of silver. He sent fifty back via bill of exchange and kept the rest. That evening, feeling flush, he splurged on four roast ducks for a family feast—the first in ages.
The Tai Shan Sect wasted no time reporting Ilgwon Pasan's whereabouts to their idol, the Kwon-wang, who bolted from Mount Tai like a shot.
* * *
When Cheon Seok-san showed up at the tripartite duel arena, Won Seung's heart nearly dropped out of his chest. He hadn't dreamed the man would step in for Cheon Il-hae.
'This isn't some friendly gathering for harmony—why the hell is he showing up?'
Hwa Cheon-gang appearing with a severed arm was shock enough, but Cheon Seok-san, who had zero stake in this...?
Won Seung was fidgeting anxiously when sudden chaos erupted, and like a miracle, the Kwon-wang crashed the party.
Won Seung was thrilled, yet utterly stunned.
Thrilled because his offhand gambit had somehow paid off. Stunned by Jeokhyeolsan's terrifying intel network.
He'd sent Jong Bi to dig into the black society boss's identity via the Jeokhyeolsan branch—and leaked that Ilgwon Pasan was in Gwangeonbang.
That was just the other day... No way!
And now the Kwon-wang was here today...?
'Jeokhyeolsan's network is this fast? He lives on Mount Tai... Even riding nonstop from there, it'd take four or five days. Unless he didn't sleep, didn't eat, and flew faster than a horse with lightness skill... This doesn't add up. The info would've had to beam straight to him.'
Oblivious that his tip had bounced through the Hao Men and he'd indirectly funded his own roast duck binge, Won Seung could only marvel at Jeokhyeolsan's reach.
'Thank God Bi Jangno bit the dust. Rest easy in the afterlife, old man—forget punks like me and enjoy it.'
If he'd lived... he'd have sniffed me out no matter where I hid. Won Seung sent up a fresh prayer for the departed.
Then he glared at Cheon Seok-san.
"You'd better follow him quick."
If Cheon Seok-san crossed to the afterlife after Bi Jangno, Won Seung could strut freely around Sangyang.
Someone shouted that the Kwon-wang had arrived, and Cheon Seok-san jolted upright in shock.
He wasn't the only one. The entire arena froze mid-motion.
At the vast warehouse wharf arena, only the lapping waves of the Sang River broke the silence.
No one dared breathe, let alone speak.
"……."
The legend from beyond the heavens—a Ten Great Expert—had descended. The notoriously hot-tempered and brutal Kwon-wang, no less.
His famous tale: smacking a guy in the back of the head for blocking his path on the road, only for the skull to explode.
After that, the Kwon-wang—whose fists outsped words or wits—became synonymous with the Grim Reaper. One stray punch, even a glancing blow, sent you straight to the next world.
So they just held their breath, stock-still.
"……."
Splash, splash!
The Kwon-wang strode across the silence and river sounds, boots thudding toward the judges' seats.
His nine-chi frame and bear-like shoulders made the ground quake with each step—or so it felt.
Two hulking bruisers trailed him, their auras no less monstrous.
At the judges' table, Ha Jeong Gwanju and Um Jeong Bangju were half-risen, awkwardly frozen. They couldn't sit, couldn't stand. One wrong twitch, and the impatient Kwon-wang might misread it and unleash a fist—game over.
The Kwon-wang halted before the table, whipped his head around, and scanned the crowd. Everyone felt those bulging eyes piercing their guts, shuddering involuntarily.
The Kwon-wang spoke.
"Heard there's some fun duel in Sangyang today. Tripartite duel, right?"
His low rumble echoed like thunder from the heavens.
"Mind if I observe?"
It sounded more like: Make room, or I'll make it for you.
Ha Jeong Gwanju straightened, then bowed shrimp-like in cupped fists, bellowing at the top of his lungs.
"Ha Jeong Gwan's Do U-ryang greets the Kwon-wang! Welcome to Sangyang!"
"Um Jeong Bang's Gong Sin here! Right this way!"
Um Jeong Bangju Gong Sin shoved Do U-ryang aside, bowed obsequiously, and yielded his seat.
Center of the three judges' spots—the head seat. Fake black society boss Gu Ak-pyeong was meant to sit there, but he'd crossed to the afterlife.
Gong Sin had snagged the center by being a year older than Do U-ryang.
He'd been basking in glory moments ago. Twenty hard years holding his faction together amid Sangyang's wolves. Finally treated as an elder statesman of Sangyang's martial world—he'd puffed up with pride.
Then the Kwon-wang dropped in out of nowhere.
Now he'd happily take the spectator seats. Hell, he wanted to. So he handed over his spot.
"No."
The Kwon-wang said.
"A guest can't take the host's seat. This one's empty."
He plopped into the vacant spot left by the no-show fake boss.
Ha Jeong Gwanju and Um Jeong Bangju hovered, afraid to sit.
"What're you waiting for? Get on with it."
"Ah! Yes, sir."
They slammed back into their chairs. Gong Sin, stuck in the center next to the Kwon-wang, felt like dying.
Twenty thousand taels... I didn't sign up to risk my neck. He just wanted the duel over so he could bolt.
"Hurry up and start the duel!"
Gong Sin yelled at Won Seung.
He'd been about to question why some kid from Baekhwa Pavilion's poetry street—a mere scholar—was officiating, how important this duel really was, and where the hell the pavilion owner who'd roped him in had vanished to.
But now? His mind was blank.
'Why is the Kwon-wang here of all places...?'
Utterly baffling.
Even more baffled: Cheon Seok-san. His face drained white at the Kwon-wang's arrival, color shifting by the second.
He'd popped a Golden Pill for max effect and joined the tripartite duel. Smart move, he'd thought—Hwa Cheon-gang was maimed, and that Yong family punk was green.
Time to take Sangyang. He'd been gloating when lightning struck.
That shout of "Kwon-wang!" nearly made him bolt.
He'd felt a stabbing glare, turned, and locked eyes with the punk. As escape tempted him, he realized the bastard was baiting him straight to the Kwon-wang.
Did this kid summon him?
Gnashing his teeth.
'Should've killed him sooner.'
The punk was glaring, tracking his every twitch.
Their eyes met, and Won Seung grinned.
'He won't rabbit with all these eyes on him, right?'
One dash for the exit, and Won Seung would yell it out loud.
Prodded by officiator Gong Sin, Won Seung mounted the arena stage. He bowed to the crowd, then boomed.
"This humble one, Pung Woo Saeng! I tread the scholar's path, heir to Great Worthy Yang's teachings, but I've always admired the bold heroes of the martial world!"
'Not even bothering with spit for that lie.'
Hwa Cheon-un inwardly cursed as Won Seung played the scholar card. A scholar throwing daggers, firing crossbows, lassoing Dosanrim butchers? No wonder my daughter's tangled with him—makes a father damn uneasy.
"By chance, I was asked to fairly oversee the tripartite duel brackets. Seeing Sangyang's heroes today fills me with emotion..."
"The observers are..."
"Among us is a Ten Great Expert from beyond the heavens, the Kwon-wang himself..."
Won Seung droned through intros for officiators and observers, turning to introduce the Kwon-wang—only to meet those bulging, glaring eyes.
'Hurry it up.'
The Kwon-wang's stare intensified.
"...so we must proceed without recklessness."
Won Seung wrapped it hastily and moved to brackets.
"Determining the brackets is simple!"
He gestured, and traveling troupe actors dashed to the three duelists from three sides of the stage.
"The conductors will hand out blank papers. Write your name and desired opponent's. Matches go first. If no matches..."
Won Seung held up dice.
"We leave it to the heavens. Roll the dice—odd or even pairs duel first."
"What if all odd or all even?"
Someone asked.
Won Seung shot the questioner a pitying look, as if it were stupid.
"Just roll again. Why ask that?"
Crude as hell... but odds were slim it'd repeat forever. Fair enough.
Circling the stage, Won Seung reached Yong Jo-un, pretended to wipe sweat, and sent a transmission.
- Yong hero, write Hwa Cheon-gang!
Yong Jo-un blinked, confused. Weren't they targeting Gwangeonbang elites first...?
Won Seung's longwinded opener was to gather his thoughts.
This wasn't the tripartite duel he'd planned.
Hwa Cheon-gang was armless. Monster-tier Cheon Seok-san pinch-hit for Cheon Il-hae.
Yong Jo-un's opponent was set.
Won Seung transmitted again.
- That Ilgwon Pasan Cheon Seok-san... he's a monster. I saw it with my own eyes. True Realm at least.