Chapter 366
What are the things humans cannot eat?
Feces? Animal hides? Insects?
At this moment, Namgung Un could confidently answer that question.
In this world, there was nothing—absolutely nothing—that humans could not eat.
"Ugh... eck."
Namgung Un was once again vomiting, tears and snot streaming down his face.
He had assumed that the food beggars ate was nothing more than leftovers or spoiled rice.
But those were the luxurious meals reserved for the well-off beggars affiliated with the Beggars' Sect.
Insects, tree roots, the carcasses of dead mice—
Ordinary beggars, to avoid starving to death, would put anything into their mouths.
And there was something else that beggars considered their "staple food."
The dregs floating in the waterways.
"Ugh... ugh..."
Namgung Un began spitting out what was in his mouth, utterly unable to swallow it.
The food scraps drifting in the waterways—
They were closer to garbage than anything that could rightfully be called food.
Yet beggars, unable to fill their hungry bellies daily, would painstakingly scoop up these dregs from the waterways.
Then they would fill empty containers with them and boil them to eat.
The taste... was so horrific that even attempting to savor it was unthinkable.
If he had to describe it, it was nothing but sour and bitter. To be more precise, it tasted like swallowing the bitter bile that came up while vomiting.
'Horrifying.'
For the first time in his life, the word "horrifying" surfaced in Namgung Un's mind.
His tongue violently rejected the taste of those dregs.
As they passed through his throat and into his stomach, his internal organs screamed in horror.
"Is it edible?"
At Bu Eun-seol's question, Namgung Un wiped the tears streaming down his face and replied,
"I-It's... a taste that takes one's breath away."
"That's fortunate."
"It's the kind of flavor that could make the dead crawl out of their graves."
Drip, drip.
Even though he had just wiped his tears, clear droplets cascaded from his eyes like a waterfall.
"Chew until the nausea passes. You need to get used to it."
"Can anyone... ever get used to this taste?"
Namgung Un wiped away yet another wave of tears.
The only way to grow accustomed to this taste, he thought, was to completely obliterate one's sense of taste.
Rustle, rustle.
But then, Bu Eun-seol suddenly began pulling strange medicine bottles from his robes and mixing their contents.
Namgung Un immediately sensed something ominous.
"Show me your teeth."
That ominous feeling instantly became reality.
When Namgung Un bared his teeth, Bu Eun-seol began slathering a thick, sticky substance onto them.
"Endure it."
Bu Eun-seol spoke impassively.
"Your teeth will appear yellow for a while."
"Ugh—!"
The moment the sickly yellow, viscous liquid clung to his teeth, the nausea he had barely suppressed erupted again.
The stench of the medicinal ingredients Bu Eun-seol had applied was so foul that even the dregs scooped from the sewers seemed fragrant in comparison.
An indescribably putrid stench rose like a miasma.
"Uwaaah—!"
Namgung Un wailed loudly.
Why couldn't he just faint at a time like this? For the first time, he cursed his own stubborn mental resilience.
"Brother Bu..."
Having barely regained his composure, Namgung Un wiped his damp eyes and spoke.
"When I was a child, I was punished severely and starved for days. Ever since then, I've boasted that there's nothing in this world I can't eat."
He trembled and shook his head.
"But now I realize... I could say that only because I'd never tasted this."
Still staring in terror at the by-products floating in the bowl, Namgung Un muttered,
"Brother Bu... Even if they're beggars from the Headquarters, surely they at least beg for food, do they? Why must we eat this?"
"Beggars below the rank of Second Knot always reek of sewage. Before becoming members of the Beggars' Sect, they would have fished their meals from the gutters daily."
Bu Eun-seol explained matter-of-factly.
"You can still give up now. No one will blame you."
Give up?
For a moment, Namgung Un bit his lip.
If he couldn't overcome a trial like this, how could he ever become a great figure?
"Why do you keep telling me to give up? I was just curious."
Chomp, chomp.
Namgung Un began shoving the dregs into his mouth.
Not the boiled ones from the pot—he was chewing the raw scraps straight from the waterways.
But he didn't vomit. He swallowed them impassively.
'I did it!'
Namgung Un finally felt a surge of triumph.
He felt there was nothing left he couldn't do. Now, all that remained was to become a perfect beggar and enter the Beggars' Sect's Headquarters.
"See? I've got it now, haven't I?"
Namgung Un grinned broadly.
But he didn't yet realize—
The trials to enter the Headquarters were far from over.
* * *
The Beggars' Sect's Headquarters.
Unlike other factions, it wasn't composed of grand halls or buildings. Instead, it resembled a vast village built across a wide plain.
Originally, the Beggars' Sect began as a gathering of starving beggars who formed a settlement.
Because beggars who wandered alone were often beaten to death while begging.
Of course, now, as one of the Nine Great Sects and One Gang, the sect wielded immense influence across vast territories...
Yet they still stationed their Headquarters far from towns, commanding their beggars from the outskirts.
Bu Eun-seol and Namgung Un had finally reentered Kaifeng.
Having survived on nothing but canal dregs for so long, the two now looked every bit the part of destitute beggars.
Even if another beggar from the Beggars' Sect were to see them, they wouldn't be able to tell the difference—at least, not at a glance.
But Bu Eun-seol knew there was still one fatal flaw in Namgung Un.
His bearing and gait.
Namgung Un carried himself with the dignified air and distinctive stride of a noble scion.
It wasn't something he had learned—it was ingrained in him from birth, raised among distinguished figures and luminaries of renowned families.
And like all deeply rooted habits, it wasn't something that could be undone in a short time.
"Do you know how to perform Sinew-Splitting and Bone-Dislocating?"
At Bu Eun-seol's abrupt question, Namgung Un shook his head.
"No. Why would I ever learn such a vicious torture technique?"
"I see."
As Bu Eun-seol's gaze swept over his body, a creeping unease began to rise in Namgung Un.
"But why do you ask?"
"Bearing and gait are like long-ingrained habits—they can't be fixed in an instant."
"Bearing and gait?"
"Yes. Especially for masters—they can deduce much from just the way someone walks."
Bu Eun-seol spoke matter-of-factly.
"You, in particular, have the unmistakable, dignified bearing and stately stride of a noble scion. Among beggars, no one carries themselves like that."
Namgung Un scratched his head with a rueful expression.
"Then what should I do? After all the hardship we've endured to get this far..."
"If you can't change your bearing immediately, the best method is to laugh incessantly—at nothing in particular. Acting slightly foolish is something anyone can do."
"Heheh."
Namgung Un grinned foolishly and nodded.
"That's something I can do! But what about my gait?"
"Since your gait can't be corrected, it would be best to perform Sinew-Splitting and Bone-Dislocating to make you limp for a while."
Thud.
The sound of heaven and earth collapsing rang in Namgung Un's ears.
After all this effort to play the beggar, now he had to deliberately twist his muscles and bones to fake a limp?
Sniffle.
Tears welled up in his eyes before he could even feel sad.
"Is it really necessary?"
"The first time Sinew-Splitting and Bone-Dislocating is performed, it leaves wounds identical to those from a severe beating."
Bu Eun-seol nodded.
"That way, we can enter the Headquarters immediately—without any complicated procedures."
Namgung Un gulped.
Then he looked down at his own leg.
Sinew-Splitting and Bone-Dislocating—a torture technique infamous throughout the martial world for its cruelty.
Even tight-lipped assassins, even iron-willed men like Beom Gang-jangdal—once subjected to it, they'd spill every secret they had.
He had heard the name countless times, but Namgung Un couldn't even begin to fathom the pain it would bring.
"You can still back out now."
"Back out? Who said anything about backing out?"
At the word "back out," Namgung Un flared up instantly.
"I was just a little startled, that's all! Go ahead and start right now!"
His bold voice might as well have declared him a proud descendant of the Namgung Clan.
But before he knew it, a hard wooden gag was already clenched between his teeth.
And his eyes were already glistening with moisture, like fog over water.
"Ggrrkk—!"
A scream that could wake the dead echoed before the Beggars' Sect Headquarters.
A gaunt beggar was carrying a plump one, sprinting straight inside.
It was Bu Eun-seol and Namgung Un.
After performing Sinew-Splitting and Bone-Dislocating on Namgung Un, he had immediately dashed toward the Headquarters.
Beggars surrounded them, but no one dared stop a man whose eyes had rolled back, foaming at the mouth.
"What happened?"
As they entered the Headquarters, a middle-aged beggar—clearly of some standing—questioned Bu Eun-seol.
"Got beaten while begging, sir."
The middle-aged beggar examined Namgung Un.
Seeing his twisted leg and the countless footprints covering his body, he clicked his tongue.
"Who dares lay hands on one of our sect's disciples?"
"Dunno, sir. Saw a flash of fire in front of me, then he got thrashed something fierce."
"Must be those damn martial artists taking their anger out on our disciples again."
Muttering angrily, the middle-aged beggar then noticed the lack of knots on their waists and clicked his tongue again.
"No knots? No wonder you got beaten!"
The Beggars' Sect was so vast, with members spread evenly across the Central Plains, that it was common for disciples not to recognize one another.
Thus, the sect used waist knots to identify members—both as proof of affiliation and to denote rank.
New initiates were given a single knot to mark them as first-knot disciples, though the dimmer beggars often lost theirs.
"Head to Placard Cave inside. You'll get medicine there."
"Thank ye kindly, sir."
Bu Eun-seol carried Namgung Un deeper inside.
«Was it really this easy?»
Namgung Un, who had foamed at the mouth and collapsed before coming to, sent a telepathic transmission.
«They didn't even question us despite having no knots?»
«The Beggars' Sect is too large, and Incense Master-rank figures often recruit disciples indiscriminately from all over.»
Bu Eun-seol's reply was indifferent.
«Unless they're second-knot disciples formally trained in martial arts, recognizing faces is difficult.»
«How shoddy. Even without knots, they don't even suspect a thing.»
"Not at all. They've already verified us through multiple checks."
Bu Eun-seol spoke in a low voice.
"Any beggar in the Central Plains could easily steal a waist knot. That's why the Beggars' Sect doesn't even bother checking them!"
With an utterly serious expression, Bu Eun-seol transmitted his voice again.
"That beggar earlier seemed to casually strike up a conversation, but in reality, he was verifying numerous things. Think carefully about what just happened."
Only then did Namgung Un recall the middle-aged beggar's actions when he'd spoken to them.
The man had closely observed Bu Eun-seol's movements as he ran over, checked the stains on their clothes, and—while pretending to listen attentively—leaned in to sniff the odor from their mouths.
"So that's how it was."
Now he understood why Bu Eun-seol had prepared so thoroughly before entering the Headquarters.
"They examined everything—from breath odor to gait—to confirm we were real beggars."
"Exactly. Among the Righteous Faction sects, the Beggars' Sect handles the most intelligence. They may appear lax, but their security is meticulous."
Bu Eun-seol's voice transmission carried a note of warning.
"That's why no one who isn't a genuine beggar can enter the Headquarters."
Namgung Un nodded.
The Beggars' Sect—leading the orthodox faction's intelligence network.
To outsiders, they might seem like mere beggars collecting rumors and piecing together crude information.
But in truth, they'd devised a method to systematically and precisely manage this vast number of people.
By leveraging their very identity as beggars.
"The Beggars' Sect... Truly a terrifying organization."
As Namgung Un muttered this, Bu Eun-seol arrived before a large cave on the western side of the Headquarters.
This was Placard Cave—where injured beggars received treatment.
Though called a "cave," it was actually a proper building.
Given the Beggars' Sect's history of living under bridges or in actual caves, they'd likely given even this sturdy structure a cave-themed name.
"Ugh..."
Bu Eun-seol deliberately groaned as they stepped inside.
The interior spanned over roughly a thousand square meters, densely packed with wooden beds.
Half a dozen Third-knot Disciples—marked by three knots on their waists—were tending to the wounded.
"Took a beating, huh? Your leg muscles are badly twisted."
The Third-knot Disciple who approached Namgung Un examined his appearance, then frowned.
A First-knot Disciple... Can't even manage his own knots properly.
Clicking his tongue internally, the man pulled a pill from his sleeve.
"Apply this. It'll ease the pain a little."
What he handed over was Vegetable Cleansing Paste—a cheap ointment made from common forest herbs.
While effective for bruises, it was useless for serious injuries like this. In other words, they were handing out medicine at a "see no evil, hear no evil" level of care.
"Couldn't I just rest here for a while?"
At Bu Eun-seol's question, the Third-knot Disciple scowled.
"It's the kind of injury that'll heal with a few days' rest anyway. Lying here won't solve anything."
Those admitted to Placard Cave received three proper meals a day.
The disciple seemed to think Bu Eun-seol was angling for that food, waving his hand dismissively.
"Apply the medicine well and lie somewhere sunny. You'll feel better soon."
Though the Beggars' Sect was wealthy, such benefits didn't extend to First-knot Disciples.
Bu Eun-seol clasped his hands resignedly.
"Thank you kindly."
Then he led Namgung Un back outside.
After surveying the interior for a long moment, he spread a mat beneath a massive tree and sat down.
Taking out the Vegetable Cleansing Paste, he carefully applied it to Namgung Un's leg while observing their surroundings.
Similar situation as expected.
Around Placard Cave, only First-knot Disciples lay resting on the ground.
Unless one was at least a Second-knot Disciple—trained in martial arts—they couldn't even qualify to lie inside.
Though told to rest, First-knot beggars couldn't leisurely claim a spot anywhere.
"How does it feel now?"
"It was excruciating at first, but I'm fine now."
When Bu Eun-seol had executed the Sinew-Splitting and Bone-Dislocating technique—misaligning his knee and ankle joints—the pain had been heaven-rending.
Foaming at the mouth upon arrival hadn't been an act.
But once Bu Eun-seol applied the ointment, the pain vanished completely—not due to the paste's efficacy, but because he'd realigned the joints while applying it.
Still, the swollen ankle and knee meant Namgung Un would have to limp for a while.
"Let's rest here for half a day."
Deliberately speaking aloud, Bu Eun-seol flopped down beside Namgung Un.
In the Headquarters, beggars sprawled everywhere—no one would question them.
But his reason for lying here?
To firmly imprint their presence on passersby.
No matter how many beggars crowded the place, newcomers stood out.
Yet by blending naturally into the Headquarters' scenery like this...
Bystanders would think, Ah, those faces look familiar.
But the world rarely goes as planned—even for Bu Eun-seol.
Thud. Thud.
Dozens of beggars approached the great tree where they rested, led by a middle-aged male beggar and a strikingly pretty female beggar.
As the group moved, Namgung Un instinctively turned to look—
Damn it.
Bu Eun-seol inwardly cursed.
Though Namgung Un had perfected a beggar's appearance, one thing remained unconcealed—
His gaze.
When the woman passed, his eyes had flashed with curiosity.
Halt.
The middle-aged beggar stopped abruptly, studying Bu Eun-seol and Namgung Un.
His eyes burned with profound internal energy and wisdom as he swept his gaze over them.
He was none other than Hae-pung, the former Deputy Sect Master of the Beggars' Sect—the very man who had once joined hands with Bu Eun-seol in the past.