Chapter 772
Demon Hall, Hidden Demon Pavilion. Grand Conference Hall.
Upon hearing the news that the Martial Alliance's Kiju Branch—which had been preparing to attack—had voluntarily withdrawn its forces, Yu Un-ryong and Myo Cheon-u exchanged stunned glances.
"This... actually worked?"
"The Unrestrained Society's branch must be built adjacent to the Martial Alliance's sphere of influence."
Those were Bu Eun-seol's words when selecting the location for the new Wanderers' Market under the Unrestrained Society.
If it had been a place where the Demon Hall and the Martial Alliance were locked in a power struggle?
They would have been attacked from both sides, making it impossible to even begin construction in the first place.
But what if they started in a territory the Martial Alliance itself barely paid attention to?
Since they prioritized justification and placed great importance on outward appearances...
They might obstruct the market's establishment, yes—but they wouldn't openly resort to force or kill the laborers.
"Additionally, it must be a location where common folk can eventually settle and make their home."
The Silent Sky Lonely Earth, the predecessor of the Unrestrained Society, was one of the largest wanderers' markets in the Central Plains.
Because of that, even if it had been built in a remote area, it could sustain itself. But for a small-scale wanderers' market, the story was different.
Without any foundation, the market itself wouldn't be able to survive.
It couldn't be in the middle of nowhere—it had to be somewhere with an established commercial district.
But places with commercial districts were, of course, already within the spheres of influence of either the Demon Hall or the Martial Alliance.
For a newly formed coalition like the Unrestrained Society to wedge itself into such a place and establish a foothold was nearly impossible.
So Bu Eun-seol decided to create an entirely new commercial district—and build the wanderers' market there.
"Where there are jobs, a commercial district will form."
It was obvious that the Martial Alliance wouldn't sit idly by and watch them construct buildings.
So Bu Eun-seol accounted for destruction from the start, instructing the carpenters to only work on the foundations and framework.
Given the wanderers' market's considerable scale, even just the skeletal structure of the buildings would make them feel a significant sense of crisis.
And just as expected, the Martial Alliance either hired Black Syndicate thugs...
Or came to the village night after night, smashing everything the carpenters had built.
As this cycle repeated, the Martial Alliance gradually grew exhausted.
Eventually, they slowed the frequency of their raids—
And instead began blocking the entry of construction materials and intimidating the laborers who came in.
The longer the construction was delayed, the more astronomical the Unrestrained Society's losses would become.
And indeed, the Unrestrained Society suffered massive losses.
But that very process...
Became the trigger for countless laborers and merchants to slowly gather in that place.
"That village was originally a place where retired carpenters lived... If buildings are continuously destroyed and rebuilt, more and more people will come to learn from them."
That was the stratagem Bu Eun-seol had devised.
"Buying the goodwill of commoners with money won't last long. They must create their own haven."
And his plan worked perfectly.
As construction continued relentlessly, the retired carpenters began showcasing their skills again.
Youngsters flocked to learn from them.
As people gathered, food stalls sprang up, and gradually, a commercial district began to form.
Especially after the carpenters developed techniques to salvage damaged materials—
Before anyone realized it, the village had become a renowned clan for learning carpentry.
"Once the main society's wanderers' market is established..."
"We will maintain the commercial district while driving out the Black Path gangs that try to extort protection money and fees."
When the Unrestrained Society made yet another groundbreaking proposal, the merchants and commoners were ecstatic.
By the time things had reached this point, if the Martial Alliance had truly resolved to demolish the place...
It didn't matter if they were merchants or carpenters—they would stake their lives to drive them out.
Seok Gang was a strategist well-versed in military tactics, but against this method, he was utterly helpless.
What kind of martial artist in this world...
Would create jobs to swallow up a sphere of influence?
Never before in the Murim had there been a figure who employed such a stratagem.
"Bu Eun-seol... Just what kind of man is he...?"
Finishing his recollection, Yu Un-ryong shook his head in disbelief.
Just what kind of life had he lived...
To be so deeply versed in the ways of the world?
Just what kind of education had he received...
To be capable of such ingenious schemes?
"Give up on trying to understand that guy."
Myo Cheon-u clapped Yu Un-ryong on the shoulder.
Then, grinning, he spoke with firm conviction.
"You'll feel much better."
The smile on Myo Cheon-u's lips resembled that of an old man who had long since abandoned all worldly concerns.
He had given up—
Long ago—on trying to comprehend Bu Eun-seol's strategic wisdom or martial prowess.
"I... I see."
Yu Un-ryong shook his head, dumbfounded.
"Ah, right."
Then, as if suddenly remembering something, Myo Cheon-u took a deep breath.
"Speaking of which, there's something you and I need to take care of there."
"What?"
He pulled out a slip from his robes and handed it to Yu Un-ryong.
It was an assignment slip sent by Bu Eun-seol.
As Yu Un-ryong read through the letter, his pupils gradually lost focus.
"This..."
His voice trembled as he spoke to Myo Cheon-u.
"Just how far ahead has he seen? Does this even make sense?"
Myo Cheon-u shook his head vigorously.
"Probably since the moment he planned to establish the Wanderers' Market here. He must have investigated everything thoroughly. He's always been meticulous by nature."
"Even so... He's not a fortune teller. How could he predict this far?"
At that, Myo Cheon-u laughed again and clapped Yu Un-ryong on the shoulder.
"...Give up."
"What?"
"Just give up."
Myo Cheon-u flashed a childlike, radiant smile.
"Then... you'll feel at ease."
—The newly reorganized Flying Demon Unit's training was overseen by Wi Cheon-gyeong, while the martial artists newly recruited into the Death Shadow War Unit were trained by Won Se-mun and Jo Nam-cheon.
Finally, as the Wanderers' Market established by the Muhonhoe took shape in the village of Giju...
The Flying Demon Unit under Tak Il-hon's command, along with the newly recruited martial artists of the Death Shadow War Unit, began their training.
In particular, the martial artists newly assigned to the Death Shadow War Unit were...
Less like warriors of the Demon Hall and more like Bu Eun-seol's personal subordinates.
Thus, they sought to train in a place unaffiliated with either the Demon Hall or the Martial Alliance—or any other faction, for that matter.
Won Se-mun, Jo Nam-cheon, and Wi Cheon-gyeong trained the Death Shadow War Unit's martial artists without missing a single day, themselves included.
They were seasoned veterans, rich in combat experience and capable of surviving any battlefield.
So, aside from Myo Cheon-u...
There were no better instructors for these new recruits.
In a small village near the Wanderers' Market in Giju, the creeping dusk had already begun to settle like a ground spider's web.
Thud, thud.
At that moment, three men entered the village.
The man on the left carried twin swords on his back, his beard bristling wildly.
His eyes were fierce, and his sturdy build made him resemble nothing less than Zhang Fei incarnate.
It was none other than Won Se-mun.
Beside him walked a man with disheveled hair and an expression that screamed everything in this world is a nuisance.
Though slightly shorter than Won Se-mun...
His physique was even more solid, like some massive heavy weapon.
Jo Nam-cheon.
"Ugh, my whole body's killing me."
Jo Nam-cheon placed a hand on Won Se-mun's shoulder and muttered.
"When will we ever escape these hellish shackles of training?"
For martial artists who had already undergone a certain level of training, imparting profound martial principles or high-level realizations would suffice.
But basic training was different.
It was nothing but endless repetition—drill after drill.
Thus, they had to shout themselves hoarse every day, demonstrating movements and personally guiding each trainee.
They had to run alongside them, checking their willpower, managing their physical condition...
And even fostering a sense of belonging.
Won Se-mun and Jo Nam-cheon's martial prowess had already stabilized to a reliable level, allowing them to cultivate through meditation alone.
Yet here they were, throwing their bodies around like madmen alongside raw recruits—
As helpless as newly hatched chicks.
No wonder they were exhausted.
"We'll just have to endure."
Won Se-mun's expression was equally gloomy.
"Given the Lord's personality... he'll probably order us to keep training until we drop dead of old age."
"You think so?"
Jo Nam-cheon also shook his head with a despondent look.
"If I'd known it'd be like this, I'd have left the training of those fledglings to the Deputy Unit Leaders."
Thud, thud.
Just then, a tall man materialized behind them like a ghost.
"Don't say that."
A handsome man with a towering stature and eyes as still and cold as a lake gripped their shoulders and spoke.
"Training your body from time to time strengthens your martial prowess even further."
His lean frame gave off the impression of a scholar rather than a martial artist.
It was Wi Cheon-gyeong.
"Don't forget—if the foundation isn't solid, no matter how high you build the tower, it'll collapse."
Gazing at the distant sky, his eyes carried a faint loneliness as he added,
"Once you're born a martial artist... you train for life."
"Hmph, as if I didn't know that."
Jo Nam-cheon pouted and shook his head.
"But the ones I'm stuck teaching are all cut from the same cloth as Won Se-mun here. That's why I'm about to die from exhaustion."
"What's that supposed to mean? Cut from my cloth?"
"Every one of those idiots refuses to use his head. They try to solve everything with their bodies."
Thwack, thwack, thwack!
Won Se-mun and Jo Nam-cheon grabbed each other by the collars and began scuffling.
Wi Cheon-gyeong watched them for a moment before waving a hand.
"Good luck with that."
"Huh? You're not coming?"
Still grappling with each other, Won Se-mun and Jo Nam-cheon rushed over and yanked at Wi Cheon-gyeong's arms.
"Come on, let's grab a drink together for once."
"Yeah, we've never had one with you before."
Every time training ended, Won Se-mun and Jo Nam-cheon would go drinking.
But Wi Cheon-gyeong?
He always just rested in his quarters.
Not once had he joined them for a drink.
"No thanks. You two can drink by yourselves."
When Wi Cheon-gyeong waved his hand dismissively, the two shrugged helplessly.
"Alright, alright."
"Well, if he doesn't want to, what can we do?"
With another shrug, they hurried off toward the tavern.
Wi Cheon-gyeong watched them scamper away like children, then shook his head.
"When will those bastards ever grow up?"
As he turned toward the guest inn where he was staying, his gaze suddenly caught on the distant Daru Tea House.
"Hmm."
He hadn't had a single day of proper rest while training the Flying Demon Unit.
Seeing Won Se-mun and Jo Nam-cheon wiggling their backsides as they rushed off to drink, he felt an unusual urge to indulge himself.
"Buy some flowers, sir?"
As he walked toward the teahouse, a little girl came scurrying up to him.
Her clothes were worn, her face smudged with dirt, but her eyes were bright and pretty.
At her feet sat a basket brimming with flowers.
She must have been selling them to the relatively well-off patrons frequenting the teahouse.
"Mister, please buy just one flower?"
Wi Cheon-gyeong studied her eager face before sighing in resignation.
"How much for one?"
"One copper coin."
"Here."
Taking the flower, he exhaled heavily.
Judging by their condition, they'd all wilted by tomorrow or the day after.
And judging by how full the basket still was, she hadn't sold a single one yet.
"Just give me all of them."
The girl shook her head quickly.
"It's alright, sir. Just one is enough—"
"No, I have a use for them."
At his words, her voice trembled.
"Then... eighty coins."
"Fine."
Wi Cheon-gyeong smiled warmly and reached for the coin pouch at his waist—
Then froze.
No matter how much he patted himself down, the pouch was gone.
'Those damn bastards!'
Instantly, the smug faces of Won Se-mun and Jo Nam-cheon flashed through his mind.
While pretending to drag him along for drinks, they must have pickpocketed him.
'They've been drinking themselves broke every day, so they needed me to foot the bill.'
No wonder they'd clung to him so unusually close today.
Using the lightning-fast techniques they'd honed through brutal training, they'd robbed him blind.
'I won't let this slide!'
Swallowing his fury, Wi Cheon-gyeong dug into his sleeve and pulled out a small metal fragment.
"This should be worth plenty."
It was leftover Dark Gold and Mysterious Iron from the time they'd crafted a memorial statue for Bu Eun-seol.
"This is Dark Gold and Mysterious Iron. Rarer and more valuable than silver taels."
He pressed it into the girl's hand.
It was so heavy that she staggered, her arm dropping from the weight.
"S-sir—"
"If you sell it at the forge over there, you'll get at least a hundred taels."
"No!"
At the mention of a hundred taels, she frantically waved her hands.
"Just eighty copper coins is enough!"
"It's fine. I just don't like owing debts."
Wi Cheon-gyeong glanced toward the pleasure house and gave a bitter chuckle.
"My so-called 'comrades'—no, those damn bastards—stole my coin pouch to drink themselves stupid. So take it."
Hearing the usually composed man mutter through gritted teeth, the girl burst into muffled giggles.
"One of them has a scruffy beard, and the other's big with bulging eyes?"
"That's them. You know them too?"
"They always dash to the pleasure house around this time."
Biting back laughter, she added,
"Then come back here tomorrow."
Holding out the Dark Gold and Mysterious Iron with both hands, she smiled sweetly.
"Take it back then."
"I don't like debts."
True to his roots in the Rootless Squad, Wi Cheon-gyeong had his own stubborn quirks.
Seeing his resolute expression, the girl nodded.
"Then I'll keep it safe until then."
"Good."
He nodded back.
"I'll come early tomorrow."
Then, slinging the flower basket over his shoulder, he trudged away.
Having been robbed of his coin pouch, Wi Cheon-gyeong couldn't go to the teahouse and instead returned to the annex of the guest inn he was borrowing.
Placing the large flower basket on the table, he began arranging the blooms into vases scattered around the room.
But even then, flowers still overflowed, so he decorated every available surface.
"Better."
The dreary atmosphere brightened instantly with the floral display.
Technically, he could have tea here too.
But true tea enthusiasts never drank at the guest inn—they always went to Daru.
The tea there was of higher quality, and more importantly, it carried Daru's unique, tranquil charm.
Though it was somewhat regrettable, the atmosphere seemed much improved now that flowers were arranged throughout the space.
Creak.
Wanting to savor the autumn breeze, Wi Cheon-gyeong opened the window—
Boom, whoooosh!
Suddenly, thunder roared, and a torrential downpour began without warning.
'Good.'
Since he had bought all her flowers, the girl must have returned home safely by now.
She wouldn't have gotten caught in the rain.
Wi Cheon-gyeong leisurely sipped his tea, listening to the sound of the rain.
The next day.
Wi Cheon-gyeong visited Won Se-mun and Jo Nam-cheon, who had stolen the money pouch, gotten drunk, and fallen asleep.
With the ink and brush he had prepared, he painted a large turtle on their faces.
And on their backs, he wrote Wangbadan —"bastard sons of turtles."
"Haaah."
With a refreshed expression, Wi Cheon-gyeong stepped outside and headed back to the money house to retrieve his money.
Bu Eun-seol provided unlimited financial support for mission-related expenses.
But when it came to salaries—whether for himself or his unit members—he was strict, even stingy.
Still, Wi Cheon-gyeong came from a long line of prestigious martial families and had plenty of money.
Even during his time in the Rootless Squad, he had always been the one to pay for his comrades' drinks.
Returning to the area near Daru Tea House, Wi Cheon-gyeong scanned his surroundings.
The flower-selling girl was nowhere to be seen.
'Did she catch a cold?'
Shaking his head, he entered Daru.
A waiter, recognizing his demeanor, guided him to the best seat on the upper floor with the finest view.
"Where's the girl who sells flowers around here?"
When he asked the waiter bringing his tea, the man shook his head.
"I don't know, sir. She usually comes every day, though."
Well, a waiter wouldn't pay much attention to a street vendor.
Rustle, rustle.
But then, in the distance, figures in official uniforms could be seen patrolling the village.
Upon closer inspection, they were constables from the Magistrate's Office.
"What are they up to now?"
Frowning, Wi Cheon-gyeong watched as the waiter glanced outside and spoke.
"More children went missing last night."
"Again?"
"Yes. For years now, children have been disappearing all over Guizhou."
The waiter exhaled heavily. "The Magistrate's Office has investigated several times, but they've never caught the culprit."
"Hmm."
"And since most of the missing are either poor peasants' children or street urchins... the investigations are half-hearted at best."
"I see."
Wi Cheon-gyeong handed the waiter a small tip for his honest answer.
"For years, huh?"
Arms crossed, his gaze sharpened as he stared into the distance.
Children disappearing for years—this was almost certainly the work of the Killing Ghost.
His instincts told him as much.
"Wait... the girl?"
A sense of foreboding struck him. He left Daru and began combing through the village.
Near a crumbling abandoned house, he found a small lump of metal.
It was the Dark Gold and Mysterious Iron fragments he had given the girl.
'Kidnapped?'
His pupils trembled like rippling water.
The girl had undoubtedly been taken.
Perhaps she had deliberately dropped the metal from her pocket—or it had fallen out during the abduction.
Flash!
A glint of light flickered in his eyes.
Wi Cheon-gyeong was practically the intelligence chief of the Death Shadow War Unit, having spent years analyzing and refining countless pieces of information.
Not only that, but his analytical skills and strategic insight were second only to Yu Un-ryong's—so much so that he sometimes took command of the Death Shadow War Unit in emergencies.
Scouring the area, he soon uncovered the culprit's footprints and several clues.
"From the stride, the height is six feet three inches."
His eyes gleamed sharply.
"The right footprint is slightly deeper, meaning he carries a heavy weapon on his right waist—a left-handed swordsman."
Admittedly, these clues alone weren't enough to pinpoint the culprit.
But fortunately, the left-handed swordsmanship was a major lead.
Left-handed swordsmen were rare in the martial world.
"If it's a left-handed swordsman active in Giju... finding him won't be difficult."
Of course, some killers deliberately operated far from their usual haunts to avoid detection.
But if they had only targeted vagrants and children from poor families in Giju all this time?
Then they were either people with considerable local influence...
Or the descendants of powerful families who could evade government scrutiny without solid evidence.
And with this lead...
They had more than enough to catch the culprit.
"The Seomun Clan?"
Back in his quarters at the annex, Wi Cheon-gyeong's eyes narrowed as he met with U Gyeong, a Death Soul Squad member who had brought him the intel.
The only person matching the clues was the youngest son of the Seomun Clan—
Seomun Gyeong, who had been secretly slipping out for nightly excursions and erasing his movements to and from the clan estate.
'Wasn't he the one who briefly made a name for himself as the Sword Ghost?'
Seomun Gyeong.
Born into the Seomun Clan, renowned for its battle formations, he was a rare talent in swordsmanship.
With the full support of the Family Head, he had been trained in the Sword Studies by numerous masters since childhood.
And when a Martial Arts Tournament offering the Spirit Divine Sword was held by the Wandering Drifters around the time he came of age—
Seomun Gyeong had participated without hesitation, displaying exceptional skill.
But unfortunately...
Bu Eun-seol of Langya Pavilion had also entered the tournament—his first appearance in the martial world.
In the end, Seomun Gyeong suffered a crushing defeat before he could make his name... and vanished from the martial world.