Is This Righteousness?
"Gye-yeong! I'm back!"
The moment I called out from outside the inn, Gye-yeong came scurrying out, his face initially bright with relief before instantly twisting into a grimace.
"Chief Chef... *gag*... ugh."
"What is wrong with you? Who gags the moment they look at someone's face?"
"Ayy, how can I not? Did you take a bath in a cesspool or something?" Gye-yeong pinched his nose, looking at me with utter disgust.
His insolent expression aside, it seemed the stench of the Human-faced Centipede had thoroughly seeped into both Man Hanseok and me.
"Is it really that bad?"
"Is your nose stuffed up, even for a martial arts master? I read in a book that masters have hyper-sensitive senses and can smell everything."
"Look at you, dripping with sarcasm instead of just saying it nicely. Go ask the innkeeper for a tub of water. I need to wash up before going inside."
Gye-yeong fetched the water, and I thoroughly scrubbed myself clean in a secluded spot behind the inn. Scented soap, the closest thing to modern soap in the Central Plains, was an absolute necessity. Though it was ridiculously expensive, it was worth every copper at times like this, making it an indispensable item for long journeys.
"But seriously, what on earth were you doing?" Gye-yeong asked.
"Catching centipedes."
"Did you catch a whole sack of them?"
"If I explained it, it'd take about six thousand words. Let's just eat. Ah, I'm so hungry I'm losing my mind."
"I'm starving to death too..." Man Hanseok muttered, clutching his stomach.
I was starving as well, so I called the waiter and ordered far more food than usual. This wasn't the Geumwa Inn where the poison had broken out, but another tavern nearby. The Geumwa Inn would probably need to be aired out for a while to clear the toxic fumes, making it uninhabitable for the time being.
"Food cooked by someone else really hits different."
In Gyeongsa and the rest of Hebei, one could taste instant-boiled mutton, or *shuan yang rou*, just about anywhere. In Korea, it was more famously known as *huoguo*, but this town of Geumsan seemed to have an abundance of chickens, as they specifically referred to it as *huoguo ji*—Hot Pot Chicken.
You dropped thinly sliced chicken into the boiling white broth, waited a brief moment, and pulled it out to find it reborn as plump, succulent, delicious meat.
Man Hanseok watched me devour the hot pot with a look of fascination.
"Is it really that good?"
"As long as someone else cooks it, it's usually delicious. Why?"
"I don't know, it feels lacking compared to what we eat at the academy."
"Look at this guy, getting spoiled."
But Hanseok's evaluation was actually correct. Compared to the dining halls of the academy, where every single ingredient was of the highest quality, this food did fall a bit short. But a chef couldn't always eat their own cooking.
Thinking about food cooked by others made me miss the taste of Korean seasoned fried chicken, ordered late at night while playing games, or eating the leftovers straight out of the microwave the next afternoon.
"You just don't know how blessed you are to be able to eat food cooked by someone else whenever you want."
"Huh? But at the academy, we can only eat at set times."
"It's just a figure of speech."
There was a country where a single phone call with a device that fit in the palm of your hand could bring chicken to your door at any hour... I miss Korea. *Sob.*
As the four of us, including our carriage driver, were busily emptying our bowls, Gye-yeong suddenly seemed to remember something and began rummaging through his sleeve.
"Oh, right. Those merchants you treated earlier? They left this to say thank you."
"What is it?"
"They said they'd be staying at a local clinic for a while and gave me this."
Gye-yeong handed over a neatly folded note. I unfolded it and read the contents.
We are heading straight to the clinic, so please make sure to stop by before you leave.
When I showed the note to Man Hanseok, he asked, "Are you going?"
"I should. I need to make sure the local physician prescribed the right treatment anyway."
After scraping our bowls clean, we set off toward the clinic where the merchants were staying. Having washed up and eaten a hearty meal, an indescribable sense of happiness washed over me. If only I could top this off with an Iced Americano... Ah, I don't know why I'm missing Korea so much today.
"Is something wrong?"
"Huh? No, why?"
"Well, you suddenly made a face..."
"It's nothing."
I quickly smoothed out my expression at Hanseok's observation. Was it homesickness? Every time I thought of Korea, a strange, overwhelming emotion welled up inside me, leaving me in a peculiar mood.
"Hero Yoon! Thank you so much!"
The moment we arrived at the clinic, the merchant who had been pacing outside grabbed my hands and began showering me with gratitude. Thanks to him, my thoughts of Korea instantly vanished.
"How is your companion doing?"
"The physician here said the initial emergency treatment was exceptionally well done, so he only needs half a day of rest. I don't know how we can ever repay this debt..."
"I didn't help you expecting anything in return. I just did it because I could."
"But you were saying money is the best just a moment ago..."
"Shh."
I signaled Hanseok to shut up as he muttered under his breath. I did have a conscience; I wasn't the type to extort poor merchants. Extorting those who actually deserved it was much more satisfying.
"Hero Yoon, please do not make us out to be ungrateful wretches who know nothing of manners."
"Ah, I really shouldn't..."
Well, if they insisted after three polite refusals, I had no choice but to accept. The merchant pressed something into my hands, and I reluctantly took it. It was a gold-colored metal token engraved with a familiar pattern and characters. It wasn't real gold, but it held just as much value: a Token of Gratitude.
"It is a Token of Gratitude from the Bohwa Merchant Group, the largest merchant guild in the Central Plains."
Every sect and guild had the concept of a Token of Gratitude, which functioned essentially as a 'one-time favor pass' in the Murim. The larger and more powerful the organization, the more unimaginable the token's value. A token from the Bohwa Merchant Group was naturally worth a fortune.
"My goodness, where on earth did you obtain something so precious...?"
"My friend acquired it by chance. He insisted I deliver it to you on his behalf, so please accept it."
"Still, this is far too much."
"What in this world could possibly be more valuable than a life?"
A wise answer to a foolish question. Accepting the Token of Gratitude, I expressed my thanks and told them to visit the Mutual Righteousness Academy if they ever needed me in the future before making my departure.
"Wow, a Token of Gratitude from the Bohwa Merchant Group. May I take a closer look?"
"Knock yourself out."
I handed the token to Hanseok, who flicked it with his finger. Judging by the clear ring, the metal was of excellent quality, making it highly unlikely to be a counterfeit.
"We got a poison core, and now a Token of Gratitude. Is today some kind of special day?"
"Or maybe it's one of those things?"
"Those things?"
"An omen that something even bigger is about to happen."
"That sounds about right."
"Right?"
"Right about to get smacked, you punk."
*Smack!*
"Argh!"
I slapped Hanseok's back, and he jumped, clutching his spine. He was surprisingly flexible; I didn't think he'd be able to reach his own back with those massive shoulders.
Having rested well at the inn, we boarded the carriage once more to continue our long journey. As Gye-yeong was double-checking our luggage to ensure nothing was left behind, he spotted something and called out to me.
"Chief Chef, when did this pouch get here?"
"Oh, that?"
Gye-yeong was pointing at an exceptionally dirty, mud-caked pouch. Ah, I hadn't explained it to him yet, had I?
"That's a poison core."
"Eek! Why on earth are you carrying that around?!"
Gye-yeong dropped the pouch onto the carriage floor in a panic. I picked it up and placed it back next to our bundles.
"Don't throw it around. I sealed it properly."
"But still, it's a poison core! Won't we get poisoned just by being near it?!"
"I wrapped it in the centipede's carapace first, then coated it with mud. The poison shouldn't leak out."
"Ah, I don't feel safe."
"Don't you trust me?"
"No."
Look at this guy, being so bold.
"Hey! If you don't trust me, get off the carriage!"
"Isn't a poison core something that poisons you the moment you touch it?! How am I supposed to stay calm when something like that is sitting right next to me?!"
"I'll buy you a mountain of sweet pastries with the money we get from selling it."
"......Really?"
Gye-yeong's face changed instantly. I had never seen someone who treated his employer like a joke but revered sweet pastries like a god. Are pastries some kind of almighty deity to you?
"Yeah. So don't go breaking it by messing around, and just leave it nicely next to the bundle."
"Sleep tight, my sweet pastries."
I was utterly dumbfounded as I watched Gye-yeong gently caress the dirty pouch.
"I swear, I don't even know if this guy is actually a servant."
"Ehehe."
"Don't smile. I might actually start liking you."
"Why are you so hot and cold, Chief Chef?"
"Hey, the most fickle person here is you!"
"Chef Yoon, why are you bickering with a servant? It's embarrassing."
"Ugh, seriously."
Bickering all the way, we continued our journey down toward the Beggars' Sect Headquarters.
***
*Swoosh!*
Dozens of silver needles flew toward a middle-aged man.
*Whoosh!*
Spinning half a turn to dodge the incoming needles, the middle-aged man's face stiffened.
"Could this be... the Rain of Flowers Filling the Sky?"
The moment the man spoke in a grave voice, the silver needles fell weakly to the ground, failing to embed themselves.
The middle-aged man let out a low groan at the weaker-than-expected force. At this rate, the needles wouldn't have even pierced his skin.
The woman who had unleashed the throwing weapons let out a scoff and pointed at the man with a mocking laugh.
"If a casually thrown handful of needles looks like the Rain of Flowers Filling the Sky to you... your eye for martial arts is pretty pathetic, even if you know I'm a daughter of the Tang Clan."
"...!"
"Am I right, mister? You're thirty years too early to kidnap me."
As the woman in purple light armor openly mocked him, the middle-aged man gritted his teeth.
"Do you think you're in a position to mock me when your maid is in our hands?!"
Behind the middle-aged man, a rough-looking thug was holding a young girl, much younger than the woman in armor, hostage.
"My lady..."
The maid trembled in terror. The woman stared at her for a brief moment with deep, dark eyes, then smirked at the man.
"Look here, mister. Holding a girl young enough to be your daughter hostage to threaten another woman is pathetic. If there's anyone in the world who wouldn't laugh at you for doing this in broad daylight, tell them to step forward!"
The woman's bold shout left the middle-aged man speechless. And as the saying goes, when you run out of arguments, you resort to violence. Having nothing left to say, the middle-aged man turned to force.
*Shring!*
A sharp, narrow-bladed sword, capable of slicing a single strand of hair in two, pointed directly at Dang Go-hye's head.
"Dang Go-hye! Are you really going to make the wrong choice?!"
"The wrong choice? Don't make me laugh, mister."
*Swoosh!*
A short flying dagger suddenly appeared in Dang Go-hye's hand and shot forward like a streak of light, aiming straight for the man's heart in a surprise attack.
"You wench!"
*Clang!*
Parrying the flying dagger with his sword, the man lunged for Dang Go-hye's wrist. But—
*Whoosh!*
The deflected dagger instantly flew back into Dang Go-hye's hand, only to be thrown once more toward the man's heart.
"Th-this is sorcery!"
The startled man parried the dagger again, but seeing it return to her hand once more, he couldn't help but shout in disbelief.
"You dimwitted mister, it's not sorcery."
Dang Go-hye chuckled, spinning the flying dagger in the air. The man, staring in horror as the dagger spun on its own, narrowed his eyes as he caught a glint of something shiny attached to the hilt.
"...Spider silk?"
"It's Thousand-Year Silk Thread, mister. *'Oooh, it's shorcery!'*"
It was a flying dagger designed to be thrown and retrieved at will, utilizing the nearly invisible Thousand-Year Silk Thread attached to its hilt. The man ground his teeth, infuriated by Dang Go-hye mocking him for failing to notice the thread.
"You wicked poison-mongering wench... Men, come out!"
*Rustle!*
At the middle-aged man's shout, over a dozen more men emerged from the bushes. Each of them radiated thick killing intent, making it clear they were a dangerous crowd.
Dang Go-hye's expression stiffened for a fraction of a second, but she quickly masked it, curling her lips into a smirk.
"I'm just a daughter of the Tang Clan traveling with a single maid. Were you really that afraid of me?"
"They say preparation prevents disaster. We will do whatever it takes to kidnap a poison wench like you."
"Oh, really? A mister who can't even recognize the Rain of Flowers Filling the Sky or a flying dagger on a Thousand-Year Silk Thread talking about preparation? I wonder if you even know how to write those characters."
Enraged by her continuous sarcasm, the man exhaled a sharp breath and roared, "Capture her immediately and gag her!"
*Clang!*
As the surrounding men drew their weapons, Dang Go-hye's face turned serious. She threw her dagger at the foremost man.
*Swoosh!*
"Urgh!"
Seeing the dagger sink cleanly into the center of the man's chest, Dang Go-hye immediately yanked the Thousand-Year Silk Thread to retrieve it. But from then on, things became difficult.
Unless she could unleash the Sichuan Tang Clan's ultimate technique, the Rain of Flowers Filling the Sky, it was impossible to face dozens of men with only a few throwing weapons. Taking them down one by one was an option, but the enemies weren't fools; they wouldn't just line up to take turns.
What do I do?
"Do you really think you can face them all with a single flying dagger?!"
As the middle-aged man shouted and the thugs closed in on her, a sudden sound echoed from the distance.
*Rumble, rumble, rumble!*
Along with the thundering sound of galloping hooves, the rattling of a violently shaking carriage and a loud scream could be heard.
"We're going to die at this rate...!"
"Shut up...! Run faster, faster...!"
Hearing the shouting, the middle-aged man turned his wide eyes toward the road.
"Wh-what is that?!"
A two-horse carriage was charging down the road, kicking up a massive cloud of dust. Then, another shout echoed even louder.
"This speed is too slow! Hanseok, jump down and help them!"
"Yes, sir!"
At the command from inside the carriage, a massive figure leaped out. It was Man Hanseok. Clutching a long spear, he utilized his lightweight movement technique to sprint toward Dang Go-hye and the thugs.
*Thud, thud, thud!*
"Uwoooooh...!"
"Wh-what is that fat bastard?!"
At one of the thug's shouts, Man Hanseok swung his spear in a wide arc, accelerating even further.
"Out of the way!"
"N-no!"
"Yes!"
*Crash!*
Slamming into the crowd without losing any momentum, Hanseok swept his spear, striking the two men who tried to block him.
"Argh!"
"Aaargh!"
Seeing the two men fly several yards from the impact of the spear, Hanseok slid to a halt, his feet digging into the dirt as he stood beside Dang Go-hye.
"*Pant, pant...* My lady, are you alright?"
Though he was large and stout, Dang Go-hye's eyes sparkled as she looked at the man who had run at full speed to save her.
"What ruffian dares interfere with the mission of the Pansu Sect?!"
As the middle-aged man roared, the carriage rattled to a halt beside Dang Go-hye. Brushing the dust off his clothes, a young man stepped down from the carriage. Yoon Gomyung answered the shout.
"Me, you son of a bitch."