#88. Time for the Hunt (2)
Thud! Crash!
"……Mm."
Irritating noises rang in his ears. Song Baek came to his senses amid the clamor, suddenly realizing he'd just been fighting Jin Sowoon and the Tae-eul Gate disciples. He shot to his feet.
"Young master, are you alright?"
The bodyguard's face, usually impassive, was etched with worry and concern. Touching the sticky, unpleasant sensation on his face, Song Baek found his hand smeared with blood.
"What the……."
"That bastard ambushed you out of nowhere……."
"……."
Isn't that what I hired you for—to stop that?
The words didn't quite make it past his lips. Since first-rate or higher warriors were banned from the Murim Academy exam, he'd had no choice but to hire these second-rate guards, far inferior to his usual escorts. Scolding them now would only tarnish his own reputation for failing to protect against a mere Tae-eul Gate ambush in the first place.
"The bastards…… did they run?"
"No…… it's……."
Turning in the direction the bodyguard pointed, Song Baek beheld utter chaos. Dozens who'd held back out of deference to Hwayang Escort Agency now swarmed toward Jin Sowoon.
Clang! Clang!
Jin Sowoon faced over a dozen swords alone, yet he showed no strain. Illusions and reality blurred as his blade flickered in and out of existence—profoundly mysterious. Like a flower bud blooming and wilting, his black sword blade gleamed so purely it stole the eye.
Grk.
Ugh.
Guh.
Each time that black flower bloomed, two or three foes suffered deep wounds and fell.
His martial prowess is utterly…….
Even the gathered Soju warriors were merely second-rate. Among the exam participants, plenty hadn't even reached first-rate. Facing ten or twenty at once should have been daunting, yet Jin Sowoon handled it effortlessly.
"His junior brothers…… take them out first……."
He quickly scanned for the ragged Tae-eul Gate disciples who looked indistinguishable from beggars. Their skills were confirmed at a mere decade's worth. Subdue them, and…….
"They're…… no pushovers either."
"Huh?"
Beside Jin Sowoon, the bizarre sounds came from the gold-silver-bronze brothers. Sword in right hand, food in left.
Food?
Clang! Clang!
Slurp.
Clang.
Chomp chomp.
The three moved in perfect sync, like a single person. The eldest-looking one ducked to scoop up some braised tofu, while the second blocked a sword aimed at his back. The youngest struck the foe's vital points with even fiercer blade work.
Gah—
One down. Then the second ducked for sweet-and-sour pork, the eldest covered his back, and the youngest attacked.
It was like a street troupe's comedic play. The problem? Real warriors kept dropping amid the performance.
"All Hansung Martial Hall's warriors are out of commission."
"Gwan Tae Hall's disciples are already unconscious."
"What?"
Hwayang Escort Agency directly backed twenty martial halls in Soju. They'd summoned everyone taking exams elsewhere, yet they couldn't handle mere Tae-eul Gate disciples?
"Where are Yang Hwa and Ha Hwa Halls' warriors?"
"……."
The bodyguard's face hardened.
"Young master, those are reserved for your protection."
No matter the numbers, raw power trumped quantity in the martial world. Thus, Hwayang had secretly operated fake halls with elite escorts, just like other sects' hidden forces, all for Song Baek.
"If we don't use them now, when will we?"
Thanks to them, he'd breezed through Ilgwanmun and Igwanmun. With three times the manpower of others, most foes hadn't dared approach.
"If Soju seniors feel slighted by this, there'll be no gains even after I enter the academy."
People thought academy entry was the endgame, but it was just the start. Ride good lines, score high with allies, get prime assignments with senior aid—that's how you climbed in the Murim Alliance. Only then could Hwayang rise from top five in Gangbuk to top three, even number one.
"Understood."
The bodyguard bit his finger and whistled long and shrill. The piercing sound made some clutch their ears. Foes sensed something amiss and halted.
Rumble rumble.
Bang!
Doors burst open as warriors poured in.
"Eek!"
The innkeeper, cooking in the kitchen, trembled, knowing the end had come.
Thud! Crack!
The inn filled with endless warriors in seconds. Still they came. Entrance jammed, a small window shattered with a crunch. Then wooden walls tore open, spilling in more.
"Eldest brother! They're endless!"
"What do we do?!"
"If you're talking, put down the food."
No matter how strong, numbers would overwhelm. The troupe brothers set aside their meals, wiping greasy left hands on their clothes.
"Come quietly."
Song Baek wiped blood from nose and mouth with his silk robe.
"So Hwayang made fake halls for exam cheating."
"!"
Jin Sowoon uttered something Song Baek never expected. A secret known to few even in Hwayang. How did he know?
Song Baek schooled his features to hide his shock.
"No idea what you mean. Participant cooperation is academy-recommended."
"Cooperation, sure. But direct orders? That's blatant cheating with excess warriors."
"……I won't dignify baseless claims. If you want to prove right or wrong, come with me."
"Wasting all these precious resources on us—worth it?"
"What……."
"You know exams matter less than connections in the Three Gates."
"Not your concern."
"Ah, ask your Soju seniors?"
"What are you doing? Subdue them now. Take all passes too."
"Yes!"
"Yes!"
Warriors' voices boomed in the vast inn. Tae-eul disciples were cornered, no room to maneuver.
Then Jin Sowoon's uniform ballooned at the front. Approaching warriors flinched.
How vast his inner energy, to radiate such force?
As he thrust out his left hand—
Instinctively, warriors raised arms to shield heads.
…….
…….
Nothing happened. Embarrassed, they charged—
Crack! Snap! Crunch!
Second-floor pillars snapped one by one. Upstairs waiters plummeted down.
"Aaaagh!"
"Move!"
"Ugh!"
The warrior-packed inn turned into pandemonium. Jin Sowoon swept at the ceiling—a massive hole punched through.
The brothers grabbed his body; a long thread shot from his hand to the ceiling.
"Great meal! Oh, and I'll put this to good use."
Shaking the golden pouch, Jin Sowoon eyed the ceiling. The four Tae-eul brothers spidered up and out.
A bizarre sight, even for street troupes.
"……."
Song Baek snapped back, recalling the shaken pouch. He frantically patted his chest.
Gone.
Missing.
Missing!
Escort bills, money pouch—even the vital golden one. How hadn't he noticed his chest empty?
"What's wrong, young master?"
"Th-the bastard……."
"Pardon?"
"Catch him! He took the passes!!"
#
Bursting through the inn roof via Flying Dragon Claw, Eunho sighed softly.
"This is why people call us a troupe."
Didn't they know their synchronized eating-fight looked more like performers? He'd seen plenty of troupe plays, but none matched their flawless, comedic coordination.
"Is that the priority now?"
"We leaving Soju?"
"Wasn't that the plan?"
"Aw…… I hoped for a break."
Below, Hwayang warriors and their martial halls bellowed, pursuing.
"Hey! That errand boy from before. Delivering now."
The boy we'd tasked with bathwater and clothes ran up, oblivious, bundle in hand.
I descended.
"Whoa! Scared me."
"That's for us?"
"Ah…… young master. Yes, four black uniforms."
"Thanks. Take this."
I handed him Song Baek's pouch. The boy jumped at its weight—far too much for an errand fee.
"No need. A silver tael if you're pleased."
"Keep three; give the rest to your boss."
"Pardon?"
"You'll see."
"Over there!"
"Catch you later."
Leaving the boy stunned, I fired Flying Dragon Claw skyward again.
"Senior brother, what'd you steal from that Song-something or Hong-something?"
"What're you on about?"
"Else why chase us like this?"
Glancing back, Hwayang escorts vaulted rooftops—impressive lightness skills.
I shook the golden pouch.
"Why make needless enemies?"
"Not making enemies. Giving would-be foes a reason. Chased for nothing, wouldn't you feel wronged?"
"……."
Geum Pyo and Eunho sighed in unison.
"Out of the city first?"
"Can't shake them fully inside."
Even if officials ignored martial matters, street fights drew magistrates. No killing allowed, the outnumbered lost—could get crushed like at the inn.
"……."
I gradually upped speed. The brothers paused circulation, matching me. Trailing Dongryong muttered nonstop, failing to keep pace.
"……When chased for no reason, give them one. When chased for no reason, give them one……."
"What're you doing?"
"No brush or ink. Repeating to remember."
"……."
#
Definitely faster rooftop-hopping than street-running. A few flying sword shots dropped pursuing escorts; none followed above or below.
As gold-silver-bronze tired, inner energy waning—
The gates appeared.
Night? We'd scale walls. Midday sun? Official crossing.
"Eldest brother, too crowded ahead."
Dozens of people and carts queued before the gate.
Touching down, I asked a flag-bearing inspector, apparently on escort duty.
"Always this long, sir?"
"Hardly. When did those thugs ever manage gates properly?"
Soju's commerce drew goods, tight checks irked all.
"Bribe?"
"Who knows? Busy—stop asking!"
His idle attitude prompted a silver tael from me.
"Ahem. You seem urgent, so…… The Gangjang Merchant leader bribed, got pulped."
"……."
Senseless chain. Entry had been smooth.
"Heard Hwayang asked checks on out-of-towners for days. New magistrate's their giant escort, right?"
Puzzle clicked. Hwayang had netted the whole city.
"Other gates too?"
"This north one's loosest. Captain's a mute thug—might pass for big money."
Distant clamor rose. Hwayang and Soju warriors closed in.
"Hide elsewhere first?"
"Move."
Heading east, a group blocked from alleys—like they'd waited.
South: pursuing Hwayang escorts arrived. West: whistled reinforcements.
Planned to nab us amid inspectors from the start.
Wide plazas near gates, quick official response. They'd intervene on murder or civilian harm.
Trap set since entry.
"How's my trap?"
Song Baek emerged from Hwayang escorts, no prior panic—smug as a go player declaring checkmate.
"Wasted on Jeomcheong."
Genuine praise. As Hwayang heir, I'd have done the same.
"But think we'd yield passes from murder fear?"
"……We'll see."
Song Baek eyed the gate; magistrate waved a flag. Archers nocked arrows atop walls.
"Cheat-worthy for Murim Academy."
"Hand 'em over nicely."
He extended a hand. I glanced at gold-silver-bronze—they subtly shook heads.
Song Baek read it, adding, "Seniors wanted only you, Jin Gongzi. Your juniors? Who cares."
He snarled through gritted teeth. No hesitation—I reached for the pouch—
"Wait!"
A clear soprano rang across the plaza. Eyes darted for the source.
Thud thud.
Faint tremors, then 150 mounted warriors with draconic aura charged in. Even wall-top magistrate and officials flinched at the grandeur.
"Jin Gongzi!"
"Jin Gongzi-nim!"
Stunned by the unexpected arrivals, I forgot Song Baek.
"Seong Moran Sojeo…… Namgung Seonhwa Sojeo?"