The Phantom Demon's Heir (2)
Haomun might have been weak in martial prowess, but in exchange, they possessed a vast information network.
From the very bottom of the world, in places no one bothered to notice, they listened, watched, remembered, and wove the truth together.
Information was power.
That was why, throughout history, countless factions had coveted Haomun’s intelligence.
They tried to oppress and exploit the group, treating them like a personal watchtower.
Sometimes through force, sometimes through appeasement and threats.
Yet Haomun had never become anyone’s subordinate.
It was an absolute principle they had upheld since the organization’s founding.
Haomun existed solely for those oppressed and abandoned in the darkness of the gangho.
They submitted to no power and served under no ideology.
That was why Haomun had always learned how to hide itself—and had only grown better at it over time.
The headquarters changed constantly. The organization’s location had never been fixed in one place.
Codes and signals shifted with every use, and even the branches did not fully know one another’s true nature.
Nevertheless, no matter what methods they had used, the ones who attacked the Black Dragon Faction had succeeded in tracking Haomun’s headquarters right to their doorstep.
“I wouldn’t have found it either. Not if you people hadn’t been chased by those bastards.”
They had hunted Haomun with cunning and skill, driving them like rabbits.
Slowly tightening the net, they had trapped Haomun’s headquarters here in Pungsan.
It might have looked as though people could come and go from the city freely, but that was an illusion.
Anyone even slightly connected to Haomun could neither enter nor leave.
Had it not been for him, discovering this place would have been only a matter of time.
“But rest easy. I drove every last one of them away.”
It wasn’t that he had done it personally—the bastards had found the intervention of Wudang too burdensome and withdrawn their encirclement.
In the end, it amounted to the same thing.
After all, he had guided events in that direction.
“Still, it’s unexpected. I didn’t think the leader of Haomun would be so young.”
“…This one is called Hongran.”
The leader of Haomun introduced herself and asked a careful question.
“Didn’t you already know about me when you came?”
“Hardly. I barely managed to locate this place at all.”
The Haomun members hidden throughout Pungsan moved with extreme caution.
As if the walls had ears and the stones had eyes.
They clearly hadn’t expected crows to be watching them.
Hongran’s lips, stained red as rouge, parted slightly.
“Then how did you know I was the leader of Haomun?”
“From your martial arts.”
“…Pardon?”
“Water Flow Silver Flower. That’s a technique only the successive leaders of Haomun are permitted to learn, isn’t it?”
“…?!”
Water Flow Silver Flower was a martial art that hurled daggers as thin as silk.
A lethal killing technique whose trajectory could not be seen and whose sound was nearly undetectable.
“So stop fiddling with that dagger. It’s already too late. If you truly meant to fight, you should have thrown it during the earlier joint attack.”
Hongran flinched, then quietly drew the dagger she had hidden in her clothes and set it on the floor.
Clink.
The blade, thin and transparent as a cicada’s wing, rang faintly against the ground.
“Remarkable. To see through our sect’s secret art so precisely. That technique hasn’t been used in at least thirty years.”
“It was used exactly thirty-seven years ago.”
He remembered it clearly.
In his previous life, he too had once tried to bring Haomun under his control.
He had thought the conditions were reasonable, but the Haomun leader of that time apparently disagreed.
Declaring that Haomun could never serve under anyone, they had fought to the bitter end.
The technique their leader used while throwing away his life had been Water Flow Silver Flower.
It hadn’t done anything to me, though.
He who had casually blocked even the Tang family’s Myriad Heavenly Flower Rain—the pinnacle of hidden weapons.
There was no chance a mere Haomun technique could have left a scratch on him.
Yet in the end the Haomun leader had achieved his goal.
By resisting with his life on the line, he had allowed the rest of Haomun to slip free of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult’s grasp.
These people probably aren’t any different.
Haomun, which had never yielded to the Phantom Demon.
Trying to bring them under his wing while living as Seomun Hwan would be even more impossible.
Hongran asked calmly.
“I will ask once more. What is your identity, young master?”
Her tone was polite, yet carried a sharp edge.
Seomun Hwan answered in his usual carefree manner.
“Why don’t you guess? Isn’t that what you people do best? If you can’t even manage that, there’s no reason for me to have come all the way here.”
When Seomun Hwan smiled, Hongran wrinkled her nose.
Even that gesture was beautiful on such a stunning woman, yet a cold light lingered in her eyes.
“…Very well. If that is what you wish, I shall demonstrate our sect’s meager abilities.”
At Hongran’s clap, the hidden door in the wall slid open once more.
Earlier, warriors had emerged from the passage. This time, four elegantly dressed courtesans stepped out, each carrying rolled documents.
They undoubtedly contained information on Seomun Hwan.
“As expected of the main headquarters. Your work is fast.”
Ignoring Seomun Hwan, Hongran began reading the documents.
She scanned the first with a calm expression, but her delicate brows furrowed at the second.
By the time she reached the third and fourth, reading them urgently, she could no longer hide her shock.
“H-how can this be…”
To the flustered Hongran, Seomun Hwan asked as if he had expected exactly this.
“Why? Is there a problem?”
“How…”
Hongran laid the four documents on the floor, comparing them back and forth as she spoke.
“How can all four reports be completely different?”
Intelligence Report 1: A spoiled young master expelled from his family.
Intelligence Report 2: A renowned wanderer.
Intelligence Report 3: A good-for-nothing from the Red Tiger Faction.
Intelligence Report 4: A scholar from a prestigious clan.
Hongran slowly unfolded each of the four sheets and read them aloud.
The first called him a spoiled young master driven from his clan.
The second described him as a famous ronin.
The third labeled him a worthless wretch from the Red Tiger Faction.
The fourth recorded him as a scholar from a noble house.
All four were literally records of entirely different people.
Hongran’s brows furrowed deeper and deeper.
Haomun always gathered information from multiple angles, then refined it by cross-verifying and narrowing down the truth.
Even in urgent situations, at least three reports should have pointed in the same direction.
Yet every single one was completely different.
“Is there some kind of problem?”
Seomun Hwan’s relaxed voice filled the room.
Hongran asked cautiously.
“…Young master. Have you perhaps disguised your identity?”
Seomun Hwan grinned and set the liquor bottle down on the table with a thud.
“Then why don’t you tell me who I am?”
“Pardon?”
“Describe what I look like right now.”
Hongran opened her mouth, then stopped.
She stared at Seomun Hwan intently for a moment before frowning again.
Frail.
No—suddenly his shoulders seemed broad and his stature tall.
His gaze appeared gentle, yet somehow deep and razor-sharp.
His outward appearance was that of a refined scholar, yet he also resembled the romantic drifter one might meet in a shabby gambling den…
Hongran even closed her eyes and opened them again.
“…This is bizarre.”
“Why? Do I look like a ghost?”
Seomun Hwan snorted, but his eyes remained sharp.
Unable to conceal her confusion, Hongran spoke.
“The impression changes every time I look. Sometimes he seems like a noble gentleman… and other times like a thug from the streets.”
“That’s quite an ambiguous combination for guessing my identity.”
Hongran was momentarily speechless.
At that moment—
Snap!
With the sound of fingers flicking, Seomun Hwan’s appearance suddenly became clear.
As if cold water had been dumped over them, someone cried out in shock.
“I-it’s him, Leader! The youngest young master of the Seomun Clan!”
“Seomun Hwan! The hidden successor of Kunlun…!”
The people in the room recognized him at a glance.
Anyone who dealt with information should at least know this much.
After all, he was the protagonist of the hottest rumors sweeping through Pungsan right now.
“So you finally recognize me.”
Seomun Hwan lazily tilted the liquor bottle, then clicked his tongue when he realized it was empty.
Hongran, having realized his identity, sat in a daze for a moment before shaking her head vigorously.
“For what reason has the hidden successor of Kunlun—whose fame echoes across the world—sought us out?”
There were many questions she wanted to ask.
How he knew secret language that had not been used for at least twenty years.
What method he had used to drive away those who had surrounded all of Pungsan.
And by what technique he had fooled their eyes.
Of course, Seomun Hwan had no intention of answering obediently.
“I need your strength.”
Hongran could not hide her disappointed expression.
“Is that your purpose as well, young master? To dominate and use us?”
All those with power were the same. No matter how gentlemanly they pretended to be on the surface, their true intentions never changed.
They wanted to cage the weak, torment them, and exploit them.
It seemed that even the Kunlun Peng who had taken flight was no different.
But Seomun Hwan spoke as if he were the one offended.
“What are you talking about? Aren’t you information brokers? I intend to pay a fair price.”
“…Pardon?”
“Why? Is that strange?”
“No… If that was the case, was there any need to use secret language to find me? There are countless Haomun branches throughout the gangho.”
“That’s because the payment I’m offering is special.”
Hongran’s expression turned sour.
“Special payment?”
“There’s no rule that says information must be bought with money. As long as it’s equivalent in value, it’s fine, isn’t it?”
“That is true. Some clients offer wild ginseng, elixirs, or valuable antiques as compensation.”
Now that the misunderstanding had been cleared, Hongran straightened her posture.
“Then what does the young master desire, and what will you offer in payment?”
Seomun Hwan smiled brightly.
“I’ll give you what Haomun needs most.”
“What we need most? What would that be?”
“Why bother asking? Strength, of course.”
“Strength?”
Seomun Hwan spoke as if instructing a student.
“Haomun handles information as diverse and voluminous as the Beggars’ Sect. Yet the treatment you receive in the gangho is completely different. Even though the Beggars’ Sect is a faction of beggars.”
The Beggars’ Sect was one of the Nine Sects and One Gang.
Despite being composed of beggars, no one dared disregard them.
“Why do you think that is?”
“The difference in martial arts. The Beggars’ Sect possesses divine arts such as the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms and the Dog-Beating Staff Technique.”
“Correct. But all of Haomun’s martial arts are worthless.”
Understanding his meaning, Hongran said,
“Are you saying you intend to sell us Kunlun’s martial arts?”
“Puhahaha! What a joke. Does that even make sense? Even if I handed over Kunlun’s arts, do you have the power to protect them?”
Kunlun was the orthodox martial tradition of the Taoist sect.
No matter how excellent the art, mastering it to a meaningful level would require decades.
Haomun currently had neither the time nor the ability.
Hongran, having been mocked, pouted.
“Then what kind of martial art are you offering?”
“One that I created myself.”
“…Pardon?”
Hongran looked at him with utter disbelief.
“A martial art you created, young master?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
“You mean one from the Seomun Clan?”
“I told you it’s not. I invented it personally.”
Hongran let out a drained sigh.
“Haah!”
The martial arts of renowned factions like the Nine Sects and One Gang had been refined and improved over hundreds or thousands of years.
They were the distilled insights of dozens or hundreds of unparalleled geniuses who had dominated their eras.
No matter how much of a genius Seomun Hwan might be, how impressive could a technique he had casually created alone possibly be?
“We already possess more than enough martial arts at that level.”
Haomun, which had handled countless pieces of information, already had a warehouse overflowing with manuals received as payment or obtained by chance.
Seomun Hwan said,
“Piling up a mountain of half-baked arts is meaningless. One truly outstanding divine art is far better.”
“And you claim your martial art is such a thing?”
“Obviously!”
Seomun Hwan handed Hongran several booklets from his robe.
The scent of fresh ink was still strong; he must have written them only yesterday or today.
Hongran frowned, but Seomun Hwan spoke with confidence.
“You probably know where to find me. Once the price is settled, send someone immediately. I have work for you.”
Seomun Hwan had elevated even his clan’s martial arts to the level of the Nine Sects and One Gang.
If he wished, he could have created something even greater.
But excessive treasure invited calamity.
Knowing this well, Seomun Hwan had crafted the arts to be neither excessive nor insufficient.
The ones he had just handed over were of similar caliber.
He had simply adjusted them to better suit Haomun’s methods—making them easy and quick for commoners and lowborn to learn.
If they mastered those arts, they would not quite reach the Beggars’ Sect’s level, but they would become strong enough that no one would dare disregard them again.
That too was a divine art.
Could a martial art comparable to those passed down by the Nine Sects and One Gang for thousands of years even be measured in value?
And not merely one—there were mental cultivation methods, movement techniques, sword arts, hidden weapon techniques, and more.
To pay the price, Haomun would have to supply every piece of information Seomun Hwan requested for at least a hundred years.
He had essentially taken Haomun into his grasp without spilling a single drop of blood.
I should have done it this way in my previous life too.
Of course, back when he had been part of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, Haomun would never have cooperated so readily.
“Up we go. Shall we head out?”
As Seomun Hwan walked toward the exit, he added,
“I’ll deduct the value of specially driving away those who were targeting this place.”
He spoke as if granting them a favor.
Then Hongran uttered something astonishing.
“…Phantom Demon.”
This time even Seomun Hwan had no choice but to turn around in shock.
“What? What did you just say?”
“The forces of the Phantom Demon. That is who was chasing us.”