Blood Sea Spreading to Sichuan (3)
When Jin Sowoon requested permission to go out, Cheol Sunjik felt a twinge of puzzlement. The academy session had only just begun—where could the representative possibly be headed?
'As unpredictable and irritating as ever,' he thought, ready to dismiss it. But when he heard the destination was Sichuan, where the Jeongdo Council had gone for their field trip, he couldn't let it slide.
A man who had stayed utterly composed even as people died within the Muryangbulgolmokhonjin was now frantically chasing after what was essentially the council's petty protest outing? And mobilizing a Cheongryonggak strike team to boot?
'What an utterly disagreeable fellow.'
For Cheol Sunjik, who despised anything unpredictable, Jin Sowoon was an existence that grated on him like nothing else. That was why he had volunteered to join this expedition—to figure out just what kind of person kept slipping through his predictions.
'Is he just some impulsive brat acting on whims... or...'
Cheol Sunjik's thoughts cut off as he gazed at Jin Sowoon's back.
"Anyone who falls behind gets left! Chase after us to Chengdu with everything you've got!"
Jin Sowoon's booming shout made Cheol Sunjik instinctively grip his reins tighter.
The members of the 12 Bongseong accompanying this trip were elites among elites. They wouldn't struggle with this pace.
"Brother Cheol, why'd you even join that guy's expedition?"
Nam Hwaseong's question drew Ha Yeongyeong, Sang Muheun, and the others up beside Cheol Sunjik, striking up conversation mid-gallop—a feat bordering on acrobatics, yet no one faltered.
Nam Hwaseong furrowed his brow, clearly baffled. "And handing over command authority to him, no less."
Cheol Sunjik couldn't help but chuckle at that.
Right before departure, Jin Sowoon had surprisingly accepted his offer to join—with one condition: absolute obedience. The 12 Bongseong elites, including Nam Hwaseong, had bristled, but Cheol Sunjik had agreed. Now they were finally voicing their pent-up doubts.
"Be honest—you all joined because you're curious about Jin Sowoon too, right?"
"......"
No one answered.
"Me? I just wanna see him scrap with those Nine Great Sect bastards. The guy's always charging in without a plan anyway."
Cheol Sunjik nodded at Nam Hwaseong's words. "Same here."
"Huh?"
"There's always a reason behind his moves."
He was unpredictable, yes. Unpredictable actions were those most people wouldn't take. And actions most people avoided usually meant low odds of success.
But not for him. His unpredictability always yielded the best outcomes, as if he had the hidden answer key all along.
It had been that way at Ma-ryeong Plateau, during the Murim Entrance Exam, and even in the Muryangbulgolmokhonjin crisis.
"Brother Cheol, you still don't get it? The guy's a lunatic. Just a raving madman with loose screws."
The 12 Bongseong members burst into laughter at Nam Hwaseong's quip.
"Hahaha, you think so too?"
Some underestimated Jin Sowoon—calling him crazy, or a black path fool who delusionally thought himself orthodox. Such judgments stemmed from envy, from those unable to accept how his unexpected choices always led to triumph.
"That's exactly why I'm curious."
Was he truly just a reckless madman... or a new kind of being, treading paths others wouldn't dare?
In Cheol Sunjik's view, his generation—those navigating the current Murim world—was already doomed.
This conviction had seared into his mind upon first meeting Yong So-a.
No one in his generation could surpass him. As long as Yong So-a existed, they could never dominate Murim or the Central Plains.
No matter how the 12 Bongseong grew or peak experts emerged, none would eclipse Shaolin's famed monk or Wudang's Dragon Child.
In the end, they could only wait for the next generation, biding time until those giants vanished from the jianghu.
"If there's someone who can defy even my ironclad predictions..."
Cheol Sunjik's sharp gaze locked onto Jin Sowoon's back, racing ahead. If he wasn't the mere madman the skeptics claimed... if he was the kind of existence Cheol Sunjik imagined...
Then even their doomed generation might birth a hopeful figure to usher in an unforeseen new era.
"Hey! 12 Bongseong! What're you dawdling for? Hurry up and catch up!"
"......"
Jin Sowoon, shattering his reverie, glared back with a demon's scowl.
Cheol Sunjik struggled to maintain composure. "Representative Jin Sowoon, are we keeping this pace? Everyone will drop from exhaustion."
"What?! You begged to tag along! If you're gonna crawl like that, why bother chasing us? Go back to the academy!"
"......"
Was he really just charging ahead thoughtlessly? Even the mighty Seung Ho-dang wouldn't last long at this rate—not to mention the 12 Bongseong.
"......Brother Cheol."
Nam Hwaseong murmured lowly. "Pick up the pace. You're the one lagging, and now we're catching flak from that lunatic."
"No, I..."
"You said come if I wanted. Now ride."
"......Sorry."
Driving people like this without a thought... maybe he's just been lucky all along.
Cheol Sunjik's thoughts tipped toward doubt.
#
"We'll cut straight through Chongqing."
Gu Jeongryong's brow furrowed deeply at Jin Sowoon's declaration.
Most groups heading from Hubei to Sichuan sailed the Yangtze, looping through Shaanxi. River travel was efficient—far higher capacity than land routes, and incomparably more comfortable.
That's why nearly everyone bound for Sichuan took that path. Cutting through Chongqing, though?
That suited only lightly packed travelers moving fast. For a fully armed group with horses? It screamed insanity.
And yet, not even a day after handing over command, Jin Sowoon was spouting madness.
"Are you sane? Crossing Chongqing? Forget the warriors—the horses won't hold up."
Gu Jeongryong had yielded command at Maeng Ju-won's plea. An old debt made it easy to grant, but watching the Mantongbu deputy chief beg publicly before his squad—"Please, just once, for my vixen of a wife and rabbit of a kid..."—left no room for refusal.
'Wasn't Maeng Ju-won still a bachelor?'
Anyway, moved by his desperation—even pawning a nonexistent wife and child—Gu Jeongryong had decided to back the overworked man and handed over authority. But that didn't mean blindly following lunacy.
"It's the only way to close the gap with the vanguard."
"Why the rush?"
"The best time to catch those who left first is just before they reach Mount Emei. But if the Yangtze's currents are swift as usual, we'll arrive at the docks after them. To catch up, we cross Chongqing."
Logical, but theory only. Humans and horses didn't run on logic alone.
"Hubei's one thing, but Chongqing has no Murim Alliance branch. And after? Where do we feed and house a hundred men, swap horses all the way to Chengdu?"
This was critical. They weren't at war—just blocking a recreational field trip. His squad would revolt.
"Don't worry about that."
"What?"
"I've already asked for help. Though I have no idea what that one will want in return..."
Jin Sowoon's cryptic words left Gu Jeongryong no choice but stern warning.
"You know the responsibility command carries?"
"Of course."
"That includes squad discontent. Needless abuse breeds rebellion."
"......"
"Even if we reach Jingzhou, the branch will be closed. Can you quell their anger?"
Despite the prodding, Jin Sowoon remained utterly relaxed.
"Hm, well, beats napping on a bench at the Jingzhou branch."
"Hm?"
Gu Jeongryong had no clue what that meant, but decided to wait and see. Ignoring his order to rest before Jingzhou, they rode till dawn—and arrived at midnight.
"Haa... haa... Damn it."
"Knew this'd happen."
"Shit, what the hell's that Black Flame Dragon thinking?"
As expected, the Murim Alliance Jingzhou branch was shut tight.
Grumbles erupted from the Seung Ho-dang members.
"Lord, what is this? We're not heading to battle—why the abuse?"
"Even for the Mantongbu chief's request, this is too much."
"Lord, we'll collapse before Sichuan. Decide now."
Just as Gu Jeongryong considered reclaiming command amid the curses—
"This way."
Jin Sowoon halted before Jingzhou's grandest inn.
"Young Master Jin! We've been waiting."
The grumbling Seung Ho-dang and 12 Bongseong gaped like fools.
The proprietor of Geumgakjang—Jingzhou's top inn—stood lined with attendants, welcoming Jin Sowoon's group.
"Escort the warriors!"
Attendants swarmed, taking horses, offering cool wet towels for hands and faces.
"Meals and baths are ready. Early departure tomorrow, yes?"
Jin Sowoon nodded casually. "Before the jin hour. Horses secured?"
"Hubei branches are set; Chongqing and Chengdu will be ready before you arrive."
"Sorry for the trouble."
The middle-aged proprietor waved it off, flustered by Jin Sowoon's bow. "Nonsense. This lets me score points with Lord Wang Geumsan—I'm grateful."
The bizarre scene left everyone staring blankly at Jin Sowoon.
Wang Geumsan? The one who piled mountains of gold?
Oddly, Tae-eul Gate disciples, plus ever-present Namgung Seonhwa and Seong Moran, took it in stride, as if routine.
'Is Jin Sowoon Wang Geumsan's son? ...But different surnames?'
Fresh from baths, they entered the dining hall to a feast timed perfectly—eyes bulged.
"One bottle of liquor per person max. Long road ahead."
The Seung Ho-dang cheered wildly. Former complainers now praised the Black Flame Dragon.
"Black Flame Dragon! Black Flame Dragon!"
"Junior! You're a real man!"
"Gotta get the right commander!"
Gu Jeongryong marveled at their swift flip.
"......"
Scarfing food without tasting, he finally asked Jin Sowoon. "You... Wang Geumsan's secret son or something?"
"Pardon? What're you saying?"
"If not, why's Lord Wang providing all this?"
This entire annex was theirs alone—meaning the inn ate losses for Jin Sowoon.
"Wang has deep ties with Tae-eul Gate. His daughter is my junior sister."
Gu Jeongryong's doubts multiplied at the casual reply.
'Not his son, so why bend over backward for a Tae-eul disciple? His son-in-law? What?'
Questions unanswered, but Gu Jeongryong felt the urge to get chummier with Jin Sowoon.