One and the Same
"Haven't all of you heard the title Great Sage, Equal to Heaven recently?"
"Ah, I know that one. The mysterious master who settled the Wudang Blood Affair, right?"
"I heard he's also the master of the Namgung Clan's Young Lord. And since he resolved the Wudang Blood Affair, that makes him a benefactor of the Wudang Sect as well."
"Here's something I picked up after coming to Anhui."
The man who had first mentioned the Great Sage lowered his voice, glancing about as if wary of being overheard.
"They say the Patriarch of the Namgung Clan has taken this Great Sage as his sworn elder brother."
A ripple of shock passed through the martial artists gathered around him.
The Patriarch of the Namgung Clan, Namgung Jinbaek. Bearer of the title Heavenly Edge Sword Star, and ranked at the very top of the Ten Great Masters. Though his fame was often overshadowed by that of the previous patriarch, the Sword God, no martial artist in the world could fail to fear his name. He was an absolute master who had shattered the wall of the Transcendental Realm, and the pride of such a man needed no elaboration.
To become sworn brothers with the Namgung Patriarch was astonishing enough. But to be honored as the elder brother?
"Is that true? Wait — is he even older?"
"No one knows his exact age, but they say he generally has a youthful face."
"Young is young — what's this 'youthful face' business? And the Patriarch calls him elder brother? Well, he wouldn't take just anyone as a sworn brother, that's for sure."
"I can't figure out what kind of person he is. From the rumors, though, he's clearly a formidable master."
"This is just my guess, but..."
The man dropped his voice once more. The master of a rural sect who claimed some thirty disciples under him turned out to have a surprising gift for working a crowd.
"Don't you think this Great Sage fellow is going to take a seat in the Orthodox Alliance?"
"Why would you think that?"
"Look. First of all, he's the sworn elder brother of the Namgung Patriarch."
"If the rumors are true, yes."
"These are rumors about the Namgung Clan — you think they'd spread for nothing? It's not baseless talk. More than one or two people have witnessed it."
"Hmm, all right, I'll grant you that. But taking a seat just because he's the Patriarch's sworn brother? That seems like a stretch."
"Ah, come now!"
The man cried out as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Had anyone with a keen eye been present, they might have found the whole exchange suspicious. Whenever the man made a point, several people in the crowd would react with exaggerated enthusiasm, as if on cue — like shills working the room, shaping the atmosphere and steering public opinion. But they played their parts so naturally that no one caught on.
"Among the Wudang Sect members who arrived at the Namgung Clan early, there's the Sect Leader's direct disciple. They say even he treats the Great Sage with the kind of reverence you'd show a family elder."
"Oho, that's impressive too. But what's that got to do with taking a seat?"
"Ah, look at this dense fellow. Think about it, brother. Even if they form a Pan-Orthodox Alliance that unites the entire orthodox martial world, you think the long-standing rivalry between the Nine Sects and One Gang and the Five Great Clans is going to vanish overnight?"
"Well, no. They still keep a wary eye on each other."
"But to form a proper alliance, you'd need a connecting point between those two groups, wouldn't you?"
"Ah! So this Great Sage becomes the connecting point?"
"Didn't I say this Great Sage is the sworn elder brother of the Namgung Patriarch? And he's on intimate terms with the Wudang Sect, the representative of the Nine Sects and One Gang — he's their benefactor."
Only then did a peculiar light dawn on the faces of those around him. They had grasped what the man was driving at.
"And so, with this man at the center, the Orthodox Alliance might well form some kind of military force, or some organization — that's the opinion of this Sip-pal-gong of Geumgeom Manor in Hunan."
At the words of the manor lord who had named himself Sip-pal-gong, the others nodded along. Sip-pal-gong, who had quietly positioned himself at the center of the group, grinned.
"Now here's the part that matters to us. This Great Sage has no sect, and his origins are uncertain."
"He doesn't belong anywhere? Isn't he a Namgung man?"
"For now he's a guest retainer of the Namgung Clan, but you think he'll stay a guest forever? He's not bound by blood, and he's not even a Namgung."
"A lone wanderer of the martial world, then."
"Exactly. A man like that — even people like us, a bit short on fame and a bit light in the purse, could join his organization if we have the skill. And he could speak for us to those at the top."
"Hmm!"
Sip-pal-gong dropped his voice to a conspiratorial hush.
"Why do you think I gathered you brothers here? I've been asking around, and this Great Sage fellow is a frequent visitor of Manhyangru!"
The men's eyes went wide. They'd assumed they'd gathered simply because it was the finest pleasure house in Anhui Province. They hadn't expected this kind of inside information.
"He seems to be a gentleman of refined tastes who rather enjoys his drink. And as we all know, once men share a cup of wine, they become the closest of friends."
"Well now, you've already got the whole plan worked out, haven't you?"
Everyone nodded at Sip-pal-gong's proposal. It was a reasonably plausible story, and one with real possibility. Fresh desire kindled in their eyes.
"Good. Then let us all resolve to do this together."
"Agreed! I'll throw in my lot with you!"
"Me too — count me in!"
"Who says we can't become a new Nine Sects and One Gang or Five Great Clans? Come on, let's make the most of this chance!"
Sip-pal-gong smiled with satisfaction.
Doesn't really matter either way.
His idea of approaching the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, building a faction around him, and making their voices heard was genuine. Whether it would succeed, however, was another matter entirely.
Even if it fails, it's not as if there's any real problem.
The men before him were mostly heads of mid-sized sects or masters of minor clans. Insignificant figures when viewed across the entire martial world, but in their own regions they were local powers with real influence and deep roots.
And I've quietly placed myself at their center.
Even if gathering around the Great Sage came to nothing, his own influence would still reach these men. That alone was more than enough.
Sip-pal-gong looked over the assembled martial artists with a pleased eye. These were the people he would walk with from now on, so he needed to commit every face to memory.
Hm?
Then, abruptly, his gaze stopped on one particular face.
Who is that?
It was strange. Everyone here was a senior figure or master of a sect. Most were well into middle age; even the younger ones were in their prime. But this man — a man with a face as fair and smooth as a child's — sat among them, and it was oddly striking.
His complexion was deathly pale, as if painted with white powder, and his pitch-black eyes were unsettling. Pupils so dark the whites were barely visible stared out as if they could see straight through him.
Was someone like this here?
How long had he been sitting there? Who was he? The thoughts flashed through Sip-pal-gong's mind, but his instincts told him something else.
This is no ordinary man.
Despite a face that looked far younger, he could not simply be dismissed as a child. In the martial world, looking young was no guarantee of being weak. What radiated from the man was less the presence of a powerful martial artist than an overwhelming sense of the extraordinary.
Sip-pal-gong asked carefully.
"Where do you hail from, sir?"
But the man merely smiled and gave no answer.
It was a peculiar feeling. There had been no reply, yet Sip-pal-gong did not feel ignored. The atmosphere, the gaze, and that bright, clear smile without a trace of malice...
This is no ordinary person.
Sip-pal-gong's eyes gleamed. He might not know the man's sect or origins, but hidden masters in the martial world were hardly rare.
"Might you also have an interest in what we've been discussing, sir?"
This time there was a response. Still silent, the man slowly nodded.
Sip-pal-gong grinned.
"Excellent. Then join us. Ah, and what might your name be, sir?"
The man looked at him steadily, then answered.
"Sama-ssi."
"You found him?"
At Sun Wukong's question, Johae's expression grew ambiguous.
"The Sama-ssi you told me to find, I mean."
"Sama-ssi?"
Sun Wukong's eyes narrowed. A sudden flicker of surprise rose in him. Even he had figured it wouldn't be easy to find the man. There were barely any leads to follow. Even Hocheong only knew that he was an agent acting on Honghaea's orders; beyond that, he knew nothing at all.
Sun Wukong had half given up on expecting results. He'd gained the Hao Clan's intelligence network, but it was only the Anhui branch. Information was limited to Anhui Province; anything beyond that would require the Hao Clan's main headquarters and the other branches, which would take time.
"How'd you find him?"
Under that steady gaze, Johae hesitated for a moment. It was the posture of a subordinate reporting to his superior. Johae had not yet truly submitted to Sun Wukong. He felt a private humiliation, but his situational judgment was exceptional. After a brief pause, he opened his mouth as if resigning himself.
"To be honest, finding Sama-ssi wasn't our priority. The main headquarters wants us throwing everything into the Grand Assembly of Murim."
Martial artists claiming the orthodox path were gathering from every direction. The Hao Clan's intent was to know at least the identities of as many of them as possible, even if they couldn't track every last one.
"And in the middle of all that, a martial artist using the name Sama-ssi turned up."
"That's it?"
"At first we didn't think much of it. How many people in the martial world use the name Sama, after all?"
If it hadn't seemed important at first, something must have come to light later. Sun Wukong's eyes gleamed.
"This fellow's sect is utterly ordinary. He's from a school in Hubei Province with fewer than thirty members. His skill is estimated somewhere between Second-class and First-class — completely unremarkable. And his past record has nothing noteworthy either."
"A complete blank."
"Yes. He's been a known martial artist for quite some time, but his background is so ordinary it's bizarre — like some village rustic."
Though he had been thoroughly crushed by Sun Wukong, the sharp instincts of a Hao Clan branch leader remained as keen as ever.
"So he's ordinary through and through, and that's why he's Sama-ssi?"
"Yes. Ordinary martial artists exist, and that's not strange in itself."
"Then why bother?"
"Instinct."
It was a limp answer, coming from the Hao Clan's intelligence apparatus. But Sun Wukong didn't dismiss it. Through his Fiery Golden Eyes, he could see the solid, unwavering movement of Johae's spirit. If it was the instinct of a Hao Clan branch leader, it was stronger evidence than most hard leads.
"Just a hunch?"
"The Hao Clan's intelligence is formidable because we build from solid evidence, reason through it again and again, and extract new information from the substance. That's the proper method. But sometimes, when you pinpoint something in a single flash of instinct, it's actually cleaner and more accurate."
"And you're saying this is one of those times."
"Yes. He's so ordinary that he keeps catching the eye, in a quiet sort of way."
Sun Wukong leaned back in his chair. His half-lidded eyes settled on Johae.
"Among ordinary people, why did being ordinary make him stand out?"
"Have you ever been to a valley deep in the mountains?"
"A valley?"
"Yes. When you go to a valley, there are so many tiny, pretty pebbles. They're everywhere. They all look similar — all the same. Just like the martial artists gathered here now."
"But Sama-ssi was different?"
"Here's the thing. Even pebbles that all look the same — if you take an interest, look closely, and pick them up in your hand... there's always one that's smooth and polished, like it slipped out of a fishbowl all by itself."
Sun Wukong's mouth curved upward. A gleam of approval flickered in his eyes. Johae fidgeted with his fingers as if rolling an imaginary pebble.
"And that pebble just happens to be named Sama-ssi..."
"And just happens to be in Hefei, Anhui Province, at this particular moment."
"And he keeps popping up here and there, trying to participate in the Grand Assembly of Murim, constantly catching our eye."
"You've got good instincts, I'll give you that."
"I called it instinct, but looking at it this way, it's Hao Clan reasoning. There's something suspicious in all that ordinariness."
Sun Wukong twisted a lock of his hair around his finger. Johae stated it plainly.
"Confirming it is Teacher Sun's job."
"Where is he now?"
Johae's expression turned slightly awkward.
"That's the problem. He's holed up in his inn room and won't come out. Even if we wanted to approach him, the situation isn't favorable. He even takes his meals in his room."
"What's the problem with that?"
Sun Wukong snorted a laugh.
"Just go find him, grab him, and squeeze him."
Once he'd gotten the location from Johae, Sun Wukong moved immediately. He found the inn where the man was staying, then the room itself, in a single breath, and read the presence from outside.
Sun Wukong's eyes narrowed.
"It's not that I can't sense a presence... it's more like everything's muffled."
As if something were covering it. The muffled opacity of looking through a veil.
Sun Wukong clicked his tongue and slammed the door open as if to smash it, his staff gripped tight, ready to flatten the man in one blow if he tried to run.
But there was no one in the room.
Not a trace of human presence. The bedding and everything else was perfectly neat, as if no one had ever been there at all. As though the room had always been empty.
And yet, beyond the five senses, a sixth sense — even the eighth consciousness beyond that, Alayavijnana, which Sun Wukong had awakened — a strangeness wormed its way into his perception.
Sun Wukong's mouth curved into a faint smile. A strangely familiar sensation. The off-kilter flow of balance he had felt not long ago. The kind that erases every last trace...
"Taoist magic."
Sun Wukong let out a short laugh. He had clearly tracked Sama-ssi here. But this vaguely off-balance between Taoist magic and formation arts — he had seen it clearly, not long ago. It belonged to that bastard.
"So it was him. Same old bastard."
Sama-ssi and that one.
"You were the same person. It was you."
Sun Wukong's thick brows arched into a crescent.
The courtesy name he hadn't spoken in a long, long time.
"So you were following Honghaea."
Sun Wukong laughed as if he found it genuinely entertaining. Tendons stood out on the fist clenched around his iron staff.
"That long, long life of yours finally got boring, did it?"
Sun Wukong drew a name from the deep place in his memory where he had buried it long ago.
Sun Wukong's eyes flashed.