An Ill-Fated Encounter
It was right when the middle-aged man and I were locked in a tense staring contest.
"A-Ah, no! You can't! Flying Tiger Unit Leader, this gentleman is a guest personally invited by the Alliance!"
The receptionist from the Guest Hall cried out, frantically throwing himself between me and the middle-aged man addressed as the Flying Tiger Unit Leader.
"A guest?"
"Yes! This is the Three-Virtue Chef!"
"Th-The Three-Virtue Chef?"
The flustered voice, of course, belonged to Jeon Jeung. While the middle-aged man didn't flinch, his eyes widened slightly, betraying his surprise.
It seemed no one had bothered to mention my identity beforehand. Seriously, they could've just dropped my name earlier to let us slide by smoothly. Left with no choice thanks to the receptionist, I clasped my hands in a formal martial greeting.
"I am Yoon Gomyung, the Inner and Outer Dining Halls Master of the Mutual Righteousness Academy."
"I am Song Ho, Leader of the Flying Tiger Unit."
Since I wasn't just anyone but a guest personally invited by the Murim Alliance, it seemed he found it awkward to press further. With a rather stiff expression, Song Ho asked,
"I heard you broke the wrist of one of my sect members and knocked down two of his bodyguards. Is this true?"
"Yes, it is."
"On what grounds?"
"I take it the young master here didn't share the full story?"
"What story?"
He asked back, looking completely clueless. Had that punk really kept his mouth shut? How incredibly disappointing. Glaring straight at Jeon Jeung, who was desperately avoiding my gaze, I addressed Song Ho.
"He harassed Lady Hong here—my childhood friend who has been traveling with me since we left Shandong."
"...Is this true?"
"I would stake my title on it. If you don't believe me, you can ask the bodyguards who got beaten alongside him."
"Those two useless fools are still unconscious."
Baring his teeth, Song Ho whirled around to confront Jeon Jeung. "Is this true?"
"W-Why would I harass a woman in broad daylight?!"
Jeon Jeung vigorously shook his hands, vehemently denying the accusation. Just as I was about to call him out on his shameless lies—
"Y-You're lying!"
Out of nowhere, Gongson Yeongji piped up in a shrill, indignant voice. "Y-You tried to seduce sister, asking her to go to a teahouse with you if she had time!"
Who knew she could project her voice like that? Gongson Yeongji had just landed a critical blow. Coming from anyone else, it might have been dismissed, but hearing such specific details from the youngest child present lent the accusation immense weight. To top it off, tears were welling up in her eyes. No decent person could ignore a child's tears as evidence.
"Is it true?"
The angriest person here wasn't me, nor was it Seonwoo Seol—it was Song Ho. The oppressive aura slowly radiating from him was a clear manifestation of pure, unadulterated rage.
"U-Uncle, please calm down first..."
"You told me the Three-Virtue Chef broke your wrist for absolutely no reason."
"I just thought they were from some insignificant, nobody sect...!"
It was an excuse he would have been far better off keeping to himself. Oh boy, here it comes. Standing right in front of Song Ho, I could feel his surging energy prickling my eyes.
"I cherished you like my own flesh and blood...!"
"That's not it... Argh!"
Crack! Song Ho kicked Jeon Jeung square in the shin. Oh, yes. Now that's what I'm talking about.Crack! Thud! Not stopping there, he delivered another brutal kick to the other shin, sending Jeon Jeung rolling on the ground, groaning in agony.
"Ugh, aaargh!"
Seonwoo Seol gasped and covered her mouth in mock surprise, but the slight twitch of her lips betrayed her satisfaction. She probably wanted to grab him by the hair and knee him in the face herself. Imagine how hard she's working to hide her true nature. But I wasn't done speaking yet.
"How you discipline your beloved nephew is an internal matter for your sect, so I won't interfere. However, Unit Leader Song, you also made some rather disparaging remarks earlier about 'a daughter of some unheard-of single-successor sect.'"
The words I had overheard on my way here would have been deeply insulting to anyone actually from a single-successor lineage. He had absolutely no defense. Realizing he had no excuse, Song Ho spoke with a genuinely apologetic look.
"...I spoke out of turn, believing my nephew was entirely blameless. I apologize."
"I also have no desire to cause a scene with important matters ahead of us, but I must ask that you offer a proper apology to Lady Hong."
When I pointed at Seonwoo Seol and made my demand, Song Ho's face stiffened. To apologize to someone he had looked down on just moments ago—would his pride as a martial artist allow it? Personally, I thought it would be great if he apologized, but not a total loss if he didn't. I could always use this incident as leverage later with Bi Rak, the Taebaek Pavilion Master, to complain about the poor quality of the Alliance's personnel.
Judging by Seonwoo Seol's neutral expression, she didn't seem to expect an apology either. Yet, defying our expectations, Song Ho bowed his head.
"Lady Hong, I made a grave slip of the tongue. Please forgive me."
"Ah, um... it's fine. There's no need to bow. I'm just glad the misunderstanding has been cleared up."
Caught off guard, Seonwoo Seol hurriedly bowed back. For a man of a Unit Leader's stature to bow to a female martial artist from an obscure sect was a massive concession. However, Song Ho's apology came with a silent condition.
"...I hope we can let this matter rest here."
Naturally. If word got out that a combat Unit Leader of the Murim Alliance had picked a fight with an innocent guest and ended up bowing in apology, his reputation would plummet. Seonwoo Seol nodded with a gentle smile, showing she understood.
"Since I've received your apology, I have no intention of speaking of this to anyone else."
"Thank you for your grace, Lady Hong."
With those words, Song Ho grabbed Jeon Jeung—who was still writhing on the stone floor—by the collar, hauled him up, and whispered in his ear.
"..."
I couldn't hear a thing, but his lip movements painted a chilling picture: 'You're dead meat later.' I didn't know how other sects handled discipline, but that punk was definitely in for a world of pain. To kick his shins so ruthlessly in public... shudder. He truly lived up to his title as an Alliance Unit Leader.
"Pardon the disturbance. Please, rest well."
As a grim-faced Song Ho dragged Jeon Jeung away, the Guest Hall receptionist's eyes went wide as saucers.
"Three-Virtue Chef, that was incredible! To completely break the momentum of a Unit Leader notorious for his terrible temper!"
"Is his temper really that bad?"
"Most Unit Leaders have nasty tempers, but the Flying Tiger Unit Leader is on a whole other level!"
If the Unit Leaders are ill-tempered and the chefs are ill-tempered, I wonder which department in the Murim Alliance actually houses the nice people. The thought crossed my mind. In any case, we headed back to our quarters and collapsed in the room Man Hanseok and I were sharing. Everyone had been wound tight, so the moment we crossed the threshold, we let go of all our tension.
"Hanseok."
"Yeees, senior?"
"By the way, couldn't you have stepped up first? Even if it's not on the level of the Nine Great Sects and One Union, the Donhwa Sect still carries some weight."
"Senior Seol told me to keep my mouth shut."
"Huh?"
Wait, Seonwoo Seol said that? Sprawled out on the floor, I glanced over at Seonwoo Seol, who was slumped over the table. She slowly turned her head away. I knew that reaction all too well—it meant Hanseok was telling the truth. Besides, Hanseok wasn't the type to make things up.
"Did you keep his identity hidden on purpose?"
"...Do you know what the Sacred Cult calls the Murim Alliance?"
"What?"
"The Insidious Alliance."
"The what now?"
"To our faces, they say things like, 'Let's bury the hatchet and get along,' but behind our backs, they're constantly looking for any opportunity to weaken the Cult's influence."
What Seonwoo Seol was describing was a classic double-dealing strategy—peace talks on the surface, military preparations in the dark. To think I'd hear about such geopolitical maneuvering in a place like this.
"The Flying Tiger Unit Leader is quite famous even within the Cult. When he was younger, he got into a dispute with one of our rising stars, and apparently, he had a terribly foul mouth."
"So you intentionally hid Hanseok's identity to bait him into making a slip of the tongue?"
Knowing her opponent's profile, she had poked and prodded him with minor jabs, waiting for him to overstep and fall right into her trap. Chills.
"And thanks to that, we completely won the exchange, didn't we? Since Chef Yoon was personally invited by the higher-ups of the Insidious Alliance, the Unit Leader couldn't say a word to you. I knew the moment you arrived, the game would be ours."
Seonwoo Seol giggled. It was a remarkably clever, almost ruthless scheme. She had sacrificed a bit of flesh by keeping Hanseok and Yeongji quiet, only to shatter the opponent's bones in return. Moments like this really reminded me that she was indeed the Little Heavenly Demon.
"Ten points to the Sacred Cult for Lady Seonwoo's brilliant performance."
"Yay! Wait, what do we get if the Cult gets ten points?"
"A good mood."
"There you go with your nonsense again!"
Huffing, Seonwoo Seol whipped her head around, giving me the cold shoulder. Even the back of her head is pretty.
"Chef Yoon, when are you heading to the kitchen...?"
"They told me to drop by early tomorrow morning. Ah... I have a feeling the hazing is going to be absolutely brutal."
"What does 'brutal' mean...?"
"It means it's going to be intense. Yeongji, don't go copying my slang."
"Brutal..."
I literally just told you not to copy me, kiddo. I really needed to watch my language around Gongson Yeongji. In any case, despite our lazy banter, a lingering sense of unease hung over me. It wasn't just Seonwoo Seol's nickname of the "Insidious Alliance," but Song Ho's reaction that kept bugging me. I already knew the Murim Alliance, the supposed vanguard of the Orthodox factions, wasn't some pure, righteous sanctuary, but... how should I put it? I had a feeling the Alliance's chefs would be a whole different breed of trouble. Please, heavens, let me get through this without having to use the Hundred Medicine Fist Secrets in the Murim Alliance.
The next morning, in the Murim Alliance's dining hall kitchen. The space was vastly larger and grander than the academy's Outer Dining Hall, and about ten people were gathered inside. I stood right at the center of the crowd.
"Now, let me introduce you."
Bi Rak, the Taebaek Pavilion Master, pointed toward a middle-aged man wearing a broad grin. "This is the Murim Alliance's Cafeteria Master, Dong Gyeongdo."
Dong Gyeongdo, who was significantly shorter and plumper than me, wore a white hat woven from horsehair. Hats made from horsehair—specifically horse tails—were incredibly expensive. To have one crafted from the tail of a white horse meant he was undoubtedly loaded. Man, the Murim Alliance must pay their chefs a fortune. Maybe I should ask Dan Buyong for a bonus when I get back.
Clasping his plump hands in a greeting, Cafeteria Master Dong Gyeongdo spoke, his smile never wavering. "I hear you possess extraordinary culinary skills. I look forward to your guidance."
"Oh, not at all. I am the one who has much to learn from you."
Hahaha, hahaha. We both laughed heartily, but neither of our eyes mirrored the joy. It was a textbook fake laugh. Now, I'm not some paranoid lunatic who suspects everyone I meet for the first time. But the moment I stepped into this kitchen, the atmosphere was practically suffocating. Even Man Hanseok, who was as dense as a brick, would have leaned in and whispered, 'Chef Yoon, I think these people hate us.' It was like sitting on a bed of needles. Everyone was wearing a smirk, but the underlying hostility was palpable. I felt like an introvert trapped in a room full of aggressive extroverts. All I wanted was to get this over with and go spar with Hanseok.
After Bi Rak took his leave, Dong Gyeongdo began showing me around the facilities, explaining their daily routine. "And over here is our icehouse," Dong Gyeongdo boasted, pointing toward a heavy iron door. An actual icehouse, not just a cold cellar. The academy didn't have one of these yet. Maybe I should play crazy and beg the Principal to build one. It would make aging meat so much easier.
"May I take a look inside?"
"I take it the academy doesn't have an icehouse?"
"We have a cool underground cellar, at least."
"In that case, feel free to feast your eyes on ours."
Dong Gyeongdo opened the door with a smug, self-satisfied smile. Normally, I would have thanked him for his hospitality, but his words carried a distinct, passive-aggressive edge. Stepping inside with a prickle of unease, I was hit by a blast of frigid air that felt exactly like the ice rooms in modern Korean saunas. Along with the goosebump-inducing cold, I saw massive blocks of ice as tall as a man, alongside various cuts of meat neatly arranged on shelves. Beef, pork, and chicken were a given, but there was even mutton beautifully displayed.
"Meat really tastes best when it's properly aged, but since the academy lacks an icehouse, storing it has been quite a challenge."
"My goodness, is that so? You mean the academy staff can't even enjoy properly aged meat? Oh dear, running the dining hall must be an absolute nightmare for you."
"Well, it's not that bad. We slice it thin or marinate it in fruit juice to tenderize it and infuse some sweetness."
"To think you have to go through such tedious labor just to make meat edible. How tragic. I truly worry for the future of the academy."
Dong Gyeongdo shook his head with a sigh. Talk about infuriating. This guy really knows how to scratch a nerve, doesn't he? What am I, a scratching post? I couldn't tell if he was looking down on me because he thought I was some country bumpkin from Shandong, or if he was just threatened by a rising young chef. One thing was certain: Dong Gyeongdo was desperate to belittle me. It was incredibly annoying. But I kept a pleasant smirk plastered on my face, refusing to let him see me sweat. Just wait until I find a single flaw in your kitchen, you smug bastard.
Just as I was about to head back out, a cut of meat with a faint bluish tint caught my eye near the door. Simply passing by it released a pure, refreshing aroma that rivaled the scent of rare spiritual herbs. It was clearly no ordinary meat.
"What is this?"
"Ah, that is the meat of the Ice-flower Deer, a spiritual beast of the North Sea..."
Dong Gyeongdo trailed off, a sudden spark of inspiration lighting up his eyes as he turned to me. "Why don't you try butchering it?"
"Excuse me?"
"Since the legendary Three-Virtue Chef possesses such peerless skill, I'm sure preparing something like an Ice-flower Deer would be child's play for you."
Smiling sweetly, Dong Gyeongdo handed me a rectangular cleaver resting inside the icehouse. I took a quick glance at the blade. The edge was chipped and incredibly dull—so dull that I could probably rub my finger along it without getting a scratch. This bastard... is he seriously doing this? A slow, nasty grin spread across Dong Gyeongdo's face. Seonwoo Seol was absolutely right. These people fully deserved to be called the Insidious Alliance.