Audience with the Black Pearl
“The master of the house wishes to see the three of you.”
At the manager’s words, Ju Yu-ryeon’s eyes flickered ever so slightly. She lifted her gaze at once and answered in a low voice.
“He wants to meet us? No… there’s really no need to go that far.”
“I am truly sorry, but the master’s orders have already been given. He instructed me to escort you inside and said he would explain everything to you in person.”
Faced with the manager’s unyielding manner, Yoo Eunhyeon stepped forward this time.
“It seems we have caused quite an unnecessary fuss. We no longer need the gold. We will take our leave.”
“The master is already waiting. If you refuse him now, it will only place us in a far more difficult position. Honored guests.”
The manager’s eyes cooled and settled like still water. Outwardly he remained polite, yet the set of his shoulders made it clear he had not the slightest intention of yielding a single step.
Yoo Eunhyeon lowered his gaze for a moment. Inwardly he clicked his tongue and weighed the situation. They were the ones who had first stirred the board. To turn their backs now would only make them a laughingstock. What had begun as a light-hearted prank would, in the end, have to be finished by their own hands.
“If you insist so strongly… then I will not refuse any longer.”
The manager offered Yoo Eunhyeon a peculiar little smile. Then he bowed his head and gestured toward the interior.
“This way.”
He strode ahead in silence. Yoo Eunhyeon followed. Ho Won-jik, who had been watching their faces carefully, fell naturally into place at the rear of the group and matched their steps.
Apparently displeased by the sight, Yoo Eunhyeon shot Ho Won-jik a playful glare.
“Every time I walk around with that guy, something that needs cleaning up always pops up.”
“You brought it on yourselves. That includes you, Eunhyeon. You could have drawn a line and slipped away at the right moment, but no—you just had to take the whole mess onto your shoulders. Wouldn’t it have been better if we’d run before the manager even got involved?”
Ju Yu-ryeon shook her head and grumbled. Strictly speaking she was right; they could have pretended ignorance and walked away. Yet if Yoo Eunhyeon had been the sort of person who did that, he would never have been standing on this road in the first place.
“That’s just how the world works. Things like this happen, and things like that happen. Besides, we started it ourselves, so we can’t pin everything on Won-jik alone.”
With a faint smile, Yoo Eunhyeon kept close behind the manager.
They had not walked long before they found themselves deep within Sugyeongru. A heavy hush blanketed the place—one that neither guests nor even the staff seemed free to disturb.
The manager halted before a door, checked for any sign of presence, and knocked softly.
“Master. I have brought them.”
“Show them in.”
From beyond the door came a somewhat rough, metallic voice. It belonged to an old man, yet it carried an odd lack of force.
“Please enter. I shall wait here.”
The manager stepped aside without following them in, merely opening the door. The moment Yoo Eunhyeon crossed the threshold, his gaze locked sharply onto the elderly man seated directly ahead.
“Come in. I am the overall manager of this Sugyeongru. My name is Gwak Jin.”
The old man who introduced himself as Gwak Jin greeted them with a gentle smile. Neatly trimmed beard, pure white hair combed back—he looked, at a glance, like an entirely ordinary elder, far from what they had expected.
An inexplicable sense of unease kept Yoo Eunhyeon from relaxing his guard. He turned his head slightly, and in that instant his eyes wavered.
…There’s one more person?
Someone else was already seated beside Gwak Jin.
What followed was stranger still. The moment Yoo Eunhyeon focused his attention, the man’s presence sprang into sharp relief, as though he had been there from the beginning yet had only just chosen to reveal himself.
Dressed in black, the man stood with his arms crossed, head tilted slightly downward. Intricate tattoos ran along his arms, and a deep scar cut across his face. He was simply standing there in silence, yet a peculiar pressure radiated from him.
Perhaps sensing the stare, Gwak Jin spoke quietly.
“This is Lord Wi Cheon-ryang, the Sect Leader of our Heokgeonmun. I imagine some of you already know the name.”
“The Lord of Heokgeonmun… Heokjuworin?!”
Ju Yu-ryeon whirled toward Wi Cheon-ryang in open shock.
Wi Cheon-ryang, called Heokjuworin—Black Pearl Moon Seal—was one of the absolute masters counted among the Ten Fingers of Wulin, a being few would dare claim as equal.
Indeed… the same sort of energy as Grandfather.
Aside from Sa Unsik and So Biwon, the strongest person Yoo Eunhyeon had ever faced was Su Gyeong-tak. He had not known it at the time, but that man too had been one of the Ten Fingers.
And the man before him now—Wi Cheon-ryang—carried a similar texture of power.
Those who stand at the very edge of the Yeonhwagyeong… the aura that clings to people straining to break through the wall feels much the same. Or perhaps, because they are trying to step off the ordinary path, they grow closer to nature itself…
Now that he had trained in martial arts himself, he could at least vaguely sense the nature of that power. Yet it still slipped from his grasp—near enough to touch, yet forever flowing away. Hiding his surprise, Yoo Eunhyeon studied Wi Cheon-ryang carefully.
Just then Ho Won-jik, who had been lost in thought, blurted out suddenly.
“H-huh… S-Sect Leader. I-it’s been a long time.”
Apparently Ho Won-jik already knew Wi Cheon-ryang. With his head bowed and never having imagined they would meet in a place like this, he had simply failed to recognize him at once.
At the greeting, Wi Cheon-ryang slowly raised his head. He swept his gaze across Ho Won-jik, Yoo Eunhyeon, and Ju Yu-ryeon in turn, then fixed it firmly on Yoo Eunhyeon and did not look away.
“I heard the rough outline from the manager, but it would be better to hear it directly. What business brings you here?”
When Yoo Eunhyeon turned toward Gwak Jin, the old man spoke as though he had been waiting for the cue. Even while listening to the full account, Wi Cheon-ryang never took his eyes off Yoo Eunhyeon. The weight of that stare was uncomfortable, yet Yoo Eunhyeon deliberately refused to look aside.
When the story ended, Wi Cheon-ryang let out a low breath that was almost a sound and nodded slowly.
“So you reserved three days, stayed only two, and now want the remaining day’s lodging fee returned… is that it?”
“That is correct.”
“Nothing difficult about that. Here.”
At a silent glance from Wi Cheon-ryang, Gwak Jin immediately drew three taels of gold from beneath the table and held them out. A flicker of genuine surprise crossed Yoo Eunhyeon’s face as he accepted the coins.
“…You’re simply giving them back? The manager said there were regulations.”
“Hahaha. I am the one who decides those regulations. Even if this falls outside the rules, I can cover the sum from my personal funds, so there is no need for concern.”
Gwak Jin spoke as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Since Yoo Eunhyeon had received the full amount rather than a partial refund, he had no further grounds to press. He accepted the gold without protest.
If things had ended there, it would have been ideal.
Of course they did not. Gwak Jin interlaced his fingers, smiled faintly, and rose.
“Our business here is finished, Sect Leader.”
As he spoke politely to Wi Cheon-ryang, the latter finally withdrew his gaze from Yoo Eunhyeon and pushed himself up from where he had been leaning. As if by prior arrangement, the two men exchanged places with perfect naturalness.
The moment he settled into the seat, Wi Cheon-ryang opened his mouth as though he had been waiting for this exact instant.
“I did not summon you solely because of the gold. By now you must realize that this is the true matter.”
Then, without warning, he leaned deep into the chair, crossed one leg over the other, and planted both feet casually upon the table.
“Young Master of Chukhobang.”
“…Yes?! Yes, Sect Leader!”
That low, arrogant voice rolled through the room. The first to react was Ho Won-jik.
“Is the Lord of Chukhobang in good health?”
“Yes. My father is well. Had I known you were here, I would have paid my respects the moment I arrived… but everything was so chaotic that I failed to do so. I-I’m sorry.”
“No need. How could you have known I was in this place?”
Wi Cheon-ryang lazily swung one foot while looking down at the thoroughly tense young man, then abruptly stopped the motion and asked,
“And your mother?”
“M-Mother is… I don’t really know. It’s been a long time since I last saw her…”
“Hahaha. Your mother’s temperament hasn’t changed a bit. Well, if she’s still with the Mawun Killing Brigade, she must be busy. I used to spar with her often in the old days—those were enjoyable times. Moments like this make me regret she went over to that side.”
From the way he spoke, Wi Cheon-ryang seemed far more interested in Ho Won-jik’s mother than his father. With nothing suitable to say, Ho Won-jik could only offer an awkward smile.
Then Wi Cheon-ryang, who had been leaning back and laughing, quieted and turned to the real subject.
“I heard about yesterday from that Dong-jo brat. You interfered when they tried to seize the Tang Clan people, did you not?”
At the mention of the previous day, Ho Won-jik flinched and immediately bowed his head.
“I-I offer my deepest apologies for yesterday’s incident! I-I was careless!”
He bowed again and again as though ready to prostrate himself fully. Wi Cheon-ryang waved a dismissive hand.
“I did not call you here to assign blame. You’re no righteous martial artist, and among fellow demonic cultivators a little friction like that is only natural. If we never clashed or tangled at all, how could we even call ourselves people of the demonic path? In my younger days I used to brawl with your father and mother all the time. Hahahaha!”
The laughter alone made him seem open-hearted. Yet a clear line ran through his words.
Fellow demonic cultivators. Tolerance existed only within that boundary. Yoo Eunhyeon and Ju Yu-ryeon understood the implication at once.
“By the way, Elder Gwak. Did Chukhobang send any formal request for cooperation to Sugyeongru?”
“None whatsoever.”
“Then why has the Young Master come all the way here?”
When Wi Cheon-ryang looked at him as though demanding an answer, Ho Won-jik stammered in panic.
“W-well… I’m just sightseeing. I-I didn’t come because I had any particular business.”
“Together with the people behind you?”
“Ah… yes.”
Wi Cheon-ryang lowered the leg he had propped on the table. He nodded once, sank into thought for a brief moment, then spoke again.
“When I first heard Dong-jo’s report, I thought little of it. Talk of bodyguards, of sworn brothers—I assumed it was all empty boasting. That boy has always been full of lies and envy.”
He paused. His eyes slowly cooled.
“But… once I actually came here, something felt off.”
The calm words ended, and in the same breath his gaze sharpened like a newly honed blade.
“I asked the overall manager. Just as Dong-jo claimed, you were not alone. You had not one companion, but two—and neither of them belonged to Chukhobang.”
At the same time a smothering killing intent began to seep outward. He had done nothing more than straighten his posture, yet the pressure felt as though it were closing around their throats.
Wi Cheon-ryang jerked his chin toward the two of them.
“Just who are you people?”