The Predestined Future
"Nine Great Sects? Dongbeonhoe?"
It was an unexpected remark.
The Nine Great Sects referred to the prestigious factions renowned across the Central Plains—Sorim, Wudang, Hwasan, Ami, Cheongseong, Kunlun, Kongtong, Jongnam, and Gaebang—wielding immense influence over the entire martial world.
Yet these Nine Great Sects were coming all the way to Dongjeong Lake, specifically singling out Dongbeonhoe for a visit, and inviting Yi Gajang—a group barely scraping by at rank 99? Yi Gajang, with whom relations were still strained?
"This is definitely for us? They didn't deliver it to the wrong address?"
"Yes. They explicitly instructed me to deliver this invitation to Yi Gajang."
The man holding the large, folded invitation approached them cautiously. He glanced confusedly at the three brothers standing side by side—Yi Jingang, Yi Jinun, and Yi Jinpyeong—before offering it to Yi Jinun, who appeared the least battered, with a deep bow.
"N-no... not me."
Yi Jinun waved him off and stepped back.
"Not me either."
Yi Jinpyeong retreated as well. The man turned a troubled gaze to Yi Jingang, who remained standing blankly.
Yi Jingang, having endured the harshest day of them all without proper treatment, looked every bit the ragged beggar who'd been thoroughly thrashed. Yet he accepted the invitation with the gentlest expression in the world, bowing deeply in return.
"Yi Jingang of Yi Gajang gratefully receives your invitation. Please convey our thanks to the Dongbeonhoe Leader."
"Yes! Of course! I'll make sure to tell him!"
Flattered by the courteous demeanor, the man beamed before swiftly backing away and vanishing.
Yi Jingang unfolded the invitation for all to see. Curiosity piqued, everyone clustered behind him to peer at the contents.
"It's genuine. Yi Gajang's name is right there."
"Three months from now."
"But they've already laid out the full schedule and events. Banquets with the Nine Great Sects, lectures by renowned masters, youth exchange gatherings, merchant galas, friendly sparring matches... what the hell is all this?"
"Why invite us to something like that?"
Yi Jinpyeong tilted his head and called out to Nak Pung-hyeon, the Chwi Hwa Bang leader.
"Hey. Did Chwi Hwa Bang get one of these too?"
Nak Pung-hyeon, seated a short distance away, replied curtly.
"If they're sending them to Yi Gajang, why wouldn't we get one? Ours came with far more pomp and formality. The messenger was a mid-level executive, too. That kid looks like the lowest of the low."
"...Skip the useless details. If you know anything, spill it."
"Word is, the invitations are going to all the factions around Dongjeong Lake, big and small alike. I didn't expect Yi Gajang to get one, though."
"What's the point of inviting every damn group here? What's their angle?"
"Could be any number of things. Dongbeonhoe's a clever bunch—or rather, their leader's got real savvy."
Yi Jinpyeong glanced sidelong at Un Sa-nang. The actual Dongbeonhoe affiliate said nothing, sitting silently. No need to tip off Nak Pung-hyeon unless she spoke up first.
Nak Pung-hyeon continued.
"The Nine Great Sects holding a gathering isn't all that surprising. Back when they banded together against the Demonic Cult, they had the Murim Alliance as a hub. But the Alliance is a hollow shell now, so they tour the Central Plains for these friendly meetups. Dongbeonhoe's leader pulled the venue here to Dongjeong Lake—and specifically to them."
"Dongbeonhoe doesn't represent Dongjeong Lake, though. How'd they pull that off?"
"That's what makes it impressive. Sure, they're top ten around here, but not the absolute top dog. The leader's got connections everywhere in the Central Plains, and look—they made it happen. Probably poured every asset they've hoarded into it."
"These bastards. Got money to burn? Why waste it on a festival inviting rival factions just to party?"
"It's no small matter. Huge investment value, if you ask me. Think about it—what'll this event look like? Even factions on par with Dongbeonhoe can't ignore the Nine Great Sects. They'll show up, hats in hand, desperate to schmooze. And they'll see Dongbeonhoe's leader standing shoulder-to-shoulder with them, getting friendly pats on the back. Boom—Dongbeonhoe's got the Nine Great Sects as their backing."
Everyone's jaws dropped as they nodded in realization.
Yi Jinpyeong summed it up neatly.
"They're just showing off."
"Don't dismiss it so lightly. This'll shake up Dongjeong Lake's power balance big time. Surviving here's no joke."
"So, you planning to go?"
"Still thinking it over."
"Why? You said it's tough sandwiched between bigger factions. This could be your chance to link up with one of the Nine Great Sects."
Nak Pung-hyeon let out a wry chuckle.
"We're Chwi Hwa Bang. Like you said, we built our strength selling women and booze. Even if I groveled at that event, those lofty Nine Great Sect pricks wouldn't give me the time of day. I'd just get sneered at or mocked."
His self-deprecating laugh carried a bitter edge. Yi Jinpyeong regretted—slightly, just a bit—the harsh words he'd flung when rejecting the alliance proposal.
"The other factions are no different, right? How many here made their coin clean? And the Nine Great Sects aren't all saints either. Gaebang beggars go without saying, but Sorim monks, Wudang Taoists..."
Yi Jinpyeong's voice rang out without restraint, spewing vivid curses as if he'd witnessed it all firsthand. His brothers and Yi Gajang's warriors shifted uncomfortably on their seats, glancing around anxiously as if fearing the Nine Great Sects might overhear.
Only two men grinned in delight: Nak Pung-hyeon, whose face lit up, and the squat former Jang Gapae leader, who burst into booming laughter.
"Hahaha! Music to my ears. Spot on—those so-called righteous sects reek the worst behind closed doors. Didn't realize it till I saw for myself."
"Well said! But who's this guy? What'd he go through?"
"...Long story."
"Sounds like we need drinks."
"Yeah! So when are we drinking?"
"Let's drink! Bring the booze!"
Yi Jinpyeong was thirsty for some himself after such an endless day. He ordered his men to buy up all the jerky from Gu Sam's shop on the way back and stock up on liquor too.
Nak Pung-hyeon, suspiciously cheerful now, suddenly thrust out a thick money pouch.
"No need to spend your own coin in hard times. Use this."
It was hefty even at a glance. Yi Jinpyeong nodded appreciatively.
"Won't turn it down."
"Good. Got nothing else to say to me? Saved your warriors, throwing money around like this."
"Hm. What're you fishing for?"
"There's a perfect word for times like these. Starts with 'gra'—you know, 'thanks'."
"Th... tha..."
"That's it! Louder!"
"Th... you think this is all? Dig deeper. How many mouths we feeding?"
"......"
Yi Jinpyeong placed his hand on Yi Jingang's body. Wood qi—the essence of growth—bloomed from his dantian, swiftly restoring Yi Jingang to normal. Their energies circulated through each other like levers, rapidly refilling Yi Jinpyeong's own depleted dantian.
Better than expected. He opened his eyes, clear and profound.
His subordinates had already prepared the drinks and food. How oddly efficient—did their lightness skills sharpen when it came to feasting?
After a moment to mourn the fallen, the group celebrated their survival in a grand feast. Even Yi Jingang and Yi Jinun, long sidelined from such revelry, joined in.
Yi Jinun, thoroughly drunk after a few cups, leaped up and danced with flashy footwork, reenacting his dodge against the Jang Gapae boss. His men cheered and clapped wildly. Nak Pung-hyeon, the squat man, even Un Sa-nang—all laughed in astonishment.
Yi Jingang, face flushed red, kept stuffing something into his robes. Yi Jinpyeong pretended not to notice. As if his brother was hoarding food for himself? The idea of a descendant sneaking family provisions to share with outsiders was absurd the more he thought about it.
In the midst of the chaos...
Yi Jinpyeong—no, the world's greatest, Yi Gyeol—pondered Yi Gajang's identity once more. What defined its bounds?
There had been a time when he'd thought fitting in among the so-called prestigious sects and clans was the way—taking it for granted. Strutting his superiority and grace among them, lording over the world.
But as his own house crumbled helplessly, what had those Nine Great Sects and Eight Great Families done to help?
He gazed at Yi Jingang and Yi Jinun. Former Hwang Sabang thugs, Chwi Hwa Bang's leader, Jang Gapae remnants—they mingled without prejudice, drinking and laughing together.
Of course. These boys had been on brotherly terms with the gambling-den-running Hwang Sabang even before he arrived.
His eyes settled on Nak Pung-hyeon. The man, chuckling at Yi Jinun's steps, noticed the stare and scowled.
"What? You picking a fight?"
"Nak Pung-hyeon. Let's get along from now on."
His expression shifted subtly. He set down his cup, face turning serious.
"You accepting my alliance proposal?"
"Come under Yi Gajang's wing."
"That's a whole different thing."
"Same thing."
"What kind of logic is—"
"All of Dongjeong Lake's factions will end up under me anyway."
"......"
"At first, I thought I'd smash them all. But now? I'll encompass the whole lake under the banner of Yi Gajang. Could be by force, or alliance, or federation like you said."
"Sounds less like expanding a clan and more like forming an alliance. Like the Murim Alliance. Mad in a whole new way."
"That's how it looks now. Yi Gajang's just rank 99, barely worthy of Dongbeonhoe's invite."
Nak Pung-hyeon and Yi Jinpyeong laughed together. He drained his cup and spoke.
"If it's the Yi Gajang I know, I can see it. A nobody like me got this strong just from your martial arts. But to pull it off, you'll need to grow way faster, way stronger than now. More than anyone in the Central Plains. Overwhelmingly."
"Don't worry."
Yi Jinpyeong rose, letting out a booming laugh—Hahahaha! Infused with inner energy, it echoed far and wide. Those laughing and chatting froze, eyes wide on him.
Meeting every gaze, he placed a hand on his waist.
"I will soon become the greatest under heaven, and Yi Gajang will become the greatest house. This is no mere hope—it's a predestined future."