Chapter 77
Ok Ho-bang.
He was the Money Manager overseeing all finances of the Wandering Drifters.
Four years ago, when the Wolf Lord entered closed-door cultivation, he entrusted Ok Ho-bang with full authority to manage the Wandering Drifters.
This was because Ok Ho-bang possessed exceptional financial acumen, an eye for instantly recognizing talent, and the sharp discernment to place people precisely where they were needed.
As the Wolf Lord had hoped, under Ok Ho-bang's management, the Wandering Drifters flourished even more.
Jobs poured in from all corners of the Central Plains, and skilled wanderers flocked to the Wandering Drifters in droves.
—What if I make the Wandering Drifters mine before the Wolf Lord returns?
As the Wandering Drifters rose as an emerging power in Murim, Ok Ho-bang began nurturing dark ambitions.
He resolved to build his own faction, ensuring that even when the Wolf Lord returned, there would be no place left for him.
—Recruit wanderers with both skill and ambition!
He ordered his subordinates to seek out wanderers who were not only exceptionally skilled but also eager to make a name for themselves in the martial world.
Most were either of questionable character or had committed serious crimes, but Ok Ho-bang paid no heed.
—Aren't wanderers, by nature, those who handle dirty work anyway?
Ok Ho-bang promised these gathered wanderers high status and wealth.
Among them, he secured the loyalty of four out of the eight most outstanding wanderers—the Eight Great Wanderers—making them his right-hand men.
Thus, having gained both money and authority, Ok Ho-bang began molding the Wandering Drifters to his own tastes.
Inside the Golden Flower Hall, in Ok Ho-bang's office.
Four wanderers, each dressed differently, stood holding their swords at an angle.
They were his trusted confidants among the Eight Great Wanderers, the ones who wielded influence within the Wandering Drifters under his command.
"What should we do about this?"
Ok Ho-bang's face twisted in frustration.
"The Spiritual Subtlety Divine Sword was originally meant as an offering to the Lord of the Hell Blood Citadel. We did manage to stir things up significantly through the Martial Arts Tournament... but that sudden appearance of Bu Eun-seol has ruined everything."
"Well, given how things have turned out, shouldn't we just give him the sword?"
The wanderer standing by the office window, Ghost Sickle, spoke up.
"He's already won the tournament, witnessed by countless martial artists. We can't exactly take back our word now, can we?"
"Easier said than done. Do you think the Hell Blood Citadel will accept that?"
When Ok Ho-bang snapped back irritably, Blood Awl, seated across from him, chimed in.
"Didn't Hall Leader Yang forfeit the match himself? If he gave up, does it really matter if we don't hand over the sword?"
"Hall Leader Yang was supposed to reclaim the sword. But the promise to present the Spiritual Subtlety Divine Sword to the Hell Blood Citadel must still be honored."
"Is that so? But why did he forfeit in the first place...?"
As Ghost Sickle trailed off, Ok Ho-bang replied with a gloomy expression.
"That's the part I don't understand either. After the finals, he left the Wandering Drifters without a word..."
A heavy silence settled over the office.
Ok Ho-bang had sought a close cooperative relationship with the Hell Blood Citadel to maintain and expand his influence. But if things went awry from the start and he fell out of their favor? It would become difficult to even scrape by in Guizhou.
"Then what if we give him a different sword instead of the Spiritual Subtlety Divine Sword?"
At Blood Awl's question, Ok Ho-bang shook his head.
"I already sent someone to propose that... but he insists on the Spiritual Subtlety Divine Sword, as promised."
"Then the conclusion is clear."
Beside Blood Awl, the woman idly toying with iron pellets—Hwa-ran—flashed a venomous smile.
"Either we give him the divine sword as promised... or we don't."
Ghost Sickle, meeting Hwa-ran's murderous gaze, scoffed in disbelief.
"Are you insane? Did you not see the martial prowess he displayed against Seomun Gyeong? I don't know about other matches, but that duel was the real deal."
"Hmph. Has anyone here risen to their position through martial skill alone?"
Hwa-ran rested a hand on her slender waist and smirked.
"That brat Bu Eun-seol—no matter how exceptional his martial arts, at his core, he's still fresh to the Rivers and Lakes. Once he gets a taste of my beauty and the Joy Bliss Powder, he won't be able to resist, don't you think?"
Then Ok Ho-bang waved both hands in refusal.
"Absolutely no seduction schemes. If we fail even slightly, the reputation of our guild will be dragged through the mud."
At that, Hwa-ran pouted.
"So we can't use force, and we can't use seduction. Then what method—"
Just as the conversation threatened to cycle back again, the giant man who had been silently standing in the corner until now—White Face—spoke up.
"Then, in the end, only one method remains."
"And what's that?"
At Hwa-ran's question, White Face bared his white teeth in a grin.
"All the schemes we've discussed so far—combined."
Bu Eun-seol walked through the interior of the Wandering Drifters alongside Heuk-pyo.
The sight of the Ronin Market, which held sway over the Guizhou region, was truly like the waxing moon—growing ever brighter.
Just as the crescent moon swells into a full moon, it had flourished greatly.
"Over there is where they examine the health of contracted ronin. And that place is a shop selling dry rations and antidotes. And over there is for ronin heading beyond the Central Plains—"
Heuk-pyo, walking beside Bu Eun-seol, was explaining each part of the Wandering Drifters as if he were a tour guide for a famous landmark.
"But even though they're hosting the Martial Refinement Tournament right in their own front yard, why hasn't the master shown even a hint of his face?"
At Bu Eun-seol's question, Heuk-pyo's beaming smile stiffened into something rigid.
"That's..."
Wearing an awkward expression, Heuk-pyo answered in a small voice.
"Right now, the Wandering Drifters is being managed by Manager Ok."
"Manager?"
"That's correct. The Wolf Lord has been in closed-door cultivation for four years now. And before he left, he entrusted the operation of the Wandering Drifters to Manager Ok, who was overseeing the finances."
Heuk-pyo, his face twisted into a deep frown, glanced around the Wandering Drifters before continuing.
"After Manager Ok took over, the mood here changed drastically. Before, even though the scale was smaller, everyone was good people—they treated each other like family and looked out for one another. But now..."
"But now?"
"The faction has grown much larger, but the number of criminals and vicious murder fiends has increased. Even the Eight Great Wanderers, who became Manager Ok's confidants—ah, well, now that Yeop Hwa is dead, I suppose it's the Seven Great Wanderers."
"Eight Great Wanderers?"
At Bu Eun-seol's words, Heuk-pyo spoke with a grave expression.
"It's a title for the eight most skilled ronin within the Wandering Drifters. Four of them have already become Manager Ok's loyal subordinates."
As they exchanged words, they had unknowingly arrived before a massive building on the western outskirts of the Wandering Drifters.
It was the Great Arsenal—capable of storing enough weapons to arm every ronin in the Wandering Drifters.
"Young Master. This is the Great Arsenal."
"Hmm."
Bu Eun-seol narrowed his eyes as he looked up at the Great Arsenal, built of dark, rough-hewn stone.
"The divine sword is stored here?"
"Truthfully, I don't know exactly where the Spiritual Subtlety Divine Sword is kept."
"Storing a divine sword coveted by the Murim in an arsenal..."
Bu Eun-seol narrowed his eyes further and shook his head.
"Tournament prizes are usually awarded immediately upon victory. I don't understand why they'd go through the trouble of delivering it like this."
At Bu Eun-seol's words, Heuk-pyo scratched his nose awkwardly.
"Actually, the Wandering Drifters has never before offered a treasure as immense as the Spiritual Subtlety Divine Sword as a prize. This time, it's a treasure that Manager Ok obtained personally and put up as the reward."
As Heuk-pyo tried to guide Bu Eun-seol into the Great Arsenal, a guard stationed there blocked their path.
"Manager has ordered that only Young Hero Bu may enter."
"It's fine. I've formally contracted with Young Master Bu—"
"Only Young Hero Bu may enter."
At the guard's interruption, Bu Eun-seol nodded.
"Wait outside."
"Huh? But..."
Bu Eun-seol's eyes, which should have been cold and still, were burning red.
Meeting that gaze, Heuk-pyo gulped.
'Something is going very wrong.'
"Please follow me."
Just then, the guard ushered Bu Eun-seol inside the Great Arsenal.
As the massive iron gate opened with a deep kuh-kung, the sound reverberated. Glancing at the gate's side, its thickness appeared to be roughly a foot.
The heavy doors swung wide open.
Inside the armory stretched a vast, cavernous space filled with an uncountable array of weapons.
Each weapon, meticulously arranged in rows, exuded a razor-sharp killing intent.
In the corners, massive siege weapons like the Giant Bed Crossbow and Catapult—ordinarily used on battlefields—were also on display.
"The interior is quite impressive."
Bu Eun-seol let out an admiring murmur.
Under normal circumstances, the guards should have responded with pride or cheerful explanations. Yet the escorting guard merely continued guiding him with a tense expression.
Clank. Thud.
The armory was so deep and expansive that Bu Eun-seol passed through several sets of reinforced doors.
Each time they crossed into a new section, the guard awkwardly tugged at the torches mounted along the walls.
Bu Eun-seol's eyes gleamed as he observed this.
'So, they don't usually bring anyone this deep.'
Creak.
Their final destination was a small training hall.
A space roughly thirty feet wide had been converted into a makeshift weapons chamber, with several tables arranged inside. It seemed designed for brief sparring sessions or seated discussions.
"Welcome, Young Hero Bu."
At the tables stood a man clad in white robes and a woman whose beauty bordered on the bewitching.
"I am White Face, the overseer of the Great Armory."
"I am Hwa-ran."
The pair bowed respectfully toward Bu Eun-seol.
He returned the gesture with a detached nod, then spoke in his low, wintry voice:
"Where is the divine sword?"
"It is currently being retrieved. The sword is stored in the deepest chamber of the armory, so disarming the mechanisms will take some time."
White Face gestured politely toward the table.
"Please, take a seat while you wait. We've prepared Sun Moon Tea from Green Mountain."
Sun Moon Tea was a premium-grade tea, rivaled only by Five Dragons Tea from Sword Brow Mountain and West Lake Longjing Tea.
As he spoke, Hwa-ran placed a steaming cup of tea on the table, its fragrant aroma curling upward in delicate wisps.
"Please, sit."
Once Bu Eun-seol took his seat, White Face and Hwa-ran raised their own cups.
"We toast to your victory, Young Hero Bu."
They each took a sip.
But Bu Eun-seol merely stared at them, his hands unmoving.
"Does the Sun Moon Tea... not suit your taste?"
At White Face's question, Bu Eun-seol glanced down at the tea, its cool, refreshing scent wafting through the air.
"It's fine."
Hwa-ran then ventured cautiously,
"Shall I bring you a different variety?"
"No. Don't trouble yourself."
His voice remained low.
"I'll simply wait here until the sword arrives."
White Face and Hwa-ran exchanged a look.
In truth, the Sun Moon Tea offered to Bu Eun-seol had been laced with Joy Bliss Powder—a potent hallucinogen and aphrodisiac.
'We knew his temperament was unusual, but... to not even touch the tea we served him?'
The first part of their scheme had been a honey trap.
Once the drug took effect, White Face would excuse himself, leaving Hwa-ran to seduce Bu Eun-seol in his hallucinatory state. If he succumbed, they would then lead the wandering martial artists in framing him as a lecher and stripping him of his victor's title.
'No choice, then. We'll have to proceed to the next step.'
With no other option, White Face rapped his knuckles against the table.
"Has the divine sword not arrived yet?"
Moments later, a low voice called from outside.
"The guards have brought the sword."
"Send them in."
The doors opened, and two guards carried in a large metal case, placing it on the table before withdrawing.
White Face carefully unlatched the container, revealing a single resplendent sword gleaming within.
"This is the Spiritual Subtlety Divine Sword."
Reflecting the torchlight, the blade resembled a work of art.
The slightly golden-hued surface of the sword blade was etched with intricate, dragon-like patterns, while the guard connecting the blade to the hilt was inlaid with gemstones that emitted a faint blue glow.
"So this is the divine sword."
At Bu Eun-seol's murmur, White Face blinked.
"Does it not meet your expectations?"
Bu Eun-seol let out a soft, humorless laugh—then suddenly fixed them with a gaze as sharp as winter frost.
"If this is a divine sword... then there's no such thing as an ordinary sword in the Murim."