Chapter 79
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 79
Chapter Title: Profound Heaven Unit
-----------------------------------------------------------------
His ready agreement felt far removed from any sense of gravity.
Seo Mun Jeong-cheon's eyebrow twitched.
There wasn't a shred of crisis awareness, as if he were just off to scout a festival in the next village over.
"Do you realize that could cost you your limbs?"
So he asked again.
"It might. But wasn't that the point of entrusting me with a unit?"
"Wrong."
Handing over a single unit was the bare minimum preparation and consideration from a man who had already braced for the worst.
How Seo Mun-ha advanced from there was entirely up to him.
"There were no other options to begin with."
Seo Mun-ha held out his empty teacup again.
"If something happens to you, Patriarch, then everything's truly upside down."
"But it would be effective."
In a stalled situation, risking it all like this was more reliable than sending underlings. For gathering intelligence or deploying a single agent.
From the perspective that no one was more suited than Seo Mun Jeong-cheon, it was as good as having already chosen the optimal path.
"Stubborn as ever. Your wife and kids are in for a rough time."
"Blood runs thick. Think you're any different?"
"We'll see."
"Hah."
He sighed, but Seo Mun-ha just let out a light chuckle.
"The Seo Mun Clan needs a father."
He followed up with a straightforward point.
"I, on the other hand, am not needed."
Even if it went south, he'd break even.
Seo Mun Jeong-cheon gazed at him with emotions beyond words.
"Don't worry too much. I'll avoid doing anything too reckless."
"I never imagined you'd care this much for the main house."
"It's not about responsibility."
Seo Mun-ha rose from his seat, stacks of documents towering on the desk between them.
Like it or not, the Seo Mun Clan was his home.
"In the end, carrying the weight of everyone in the main house is heavier on the shoulders."
The depth of his attachment was surprisingly profound—even to himself.
Fundamentally, it was the land where they all lived, and a few key people there mattered to him.
The clan's crisis boiled down to that simple motivation.
With Seo Mun-ha rolling up his sleeves without nitpicking, his cold pragmatism hid a surprising well of humanity. Blood couldn't lie between father and son.
"Oh, but in exchange?"
For Seo Mun-ha, this was also a chance to repay his debt to his uncle Seo Mun Jeong-ryong and the clan.
"Exchange?"
As he turned to leave the study, Seo Mun-ha added,
"I'll handle it my way."
Seo Mun Jeong-cheon couldn't see the grin on his face.
Time slipped by unnoticed.
Staring at the firmly shut door for a long while, Seo Mun Jeong-cheon recalled Seo Mun-ha's retreating figure.
"Patriarch, it's the steward."
Until U Chong-gwan arrived.
"Come in."
His duties had a beginning but no end.
Amid the relentless schedule, the steward lightened the load as always, fulfilling his role admirably.
"...So that's what happened."
Having heard the full story, he shared his thoughts.
"I understand your concerns, but why not give him a shot just this once?"
"Is this the kind of thing you just hand off once?"
U Chong-gwan jested lightly in contrast to the glaring patriarch.
"You've heard what they call the Third Young Master these days. Even the branch families boast about him now, alongside Ma Dan-ju and U Dan-ju."
His reputation had flipped, elevating his status as recompense for past deeds.
"Like the Third Young Master said, I'm out of alternatives myself."
Seo Mun Jeong-cheon gave no reply.
He simply closed his eyes in silence.
'Blood really can't be denied.'
'You show mercy to others, but expect cold resolve from your son?'
Seo Mun-ha's earlier words echoed in his mind.
The endlessly pragmatic Seo Mun Jeong-cheon's true heart prioritized others over himself.
"Patriarch?"
U Chong-gwan had served faithfully by his side for years.
That devotion explained why the clan's closest aides revered him so.
"That rascal's all grown up now."
"The Third Young Master?"
"No, nothing."
Shaking off his tangled thoughts, Seo Mun Jeong-cheon straightened his broad shoulders.
"It's a done decision anyway. I just wanted to check I wasn't mixing personal and clan matters."
He seemed flawless as patriarch, but he'd erred with his children before. Reviewing his choice brought a clearer expression to his face.
"Glad that's settled, but..."
The steward trailed off apologetically, flicking his eyes suggestively.
"I know."
The towering pile of papers.
Each one precious, none could be skimped.
"Come to think of it, if you're gone, who'll handle all this? Heh."
"You say that like it's someone else's problem?"
"Of course not."
The steward, abacus already clicking from earlier, spread out a draft.
"Even shelving Sichuan, without alternate funding, we won't last long."
"True enough."
Redirecting shortfalls had its limits.
"We can't keep our hands off Sichuan forever."
Blindfolding won't shrink a belly wound—it only grows.
"Small mercy: the Hwang Bo Clan is staying relatively quiet."
"They need to shore up internals. For the Murim Alliance's sake, probably quiet till year's end."
Thanks to Alliance support, the Seo Mun Clan maintained face outwardly.
"It's a race against time. Worst case, we lose both Sichuan and Zhejiang."
Seo Mun Jeong-cheon tapped the desk.
"Can't fill the Fame Squadron and Ascending Dragon Squadron gaps overnight. Assuming we've lost them all, draft reorganization with new recruits first. Budget it out too."
Two men who hadn't slept much tonight, amid ever-deepening wrinkles.
Two days passed.
Having decided, Seo Mun-ha spent his pre-Hangzhou trip in a flurry like everyone else.
No special preparations needed, but unlike before, it wasn't just him alone.
At the fierce midday sun.
Seo Mun-ha surveyed the outer courtyard's training ground.
Normally bustling with trainees, it felt emptier now, the reduced numbers starkly real. Even on this vast field, he'd avoided peak hours before. Today, he took in the crowd properly.
"... "
"... "
About thirty young men watched him with varied expressions.
Unlike those notified yesterday, these were all fresh recruits to the Seo Mun Clan.
Some looked solidly trained at a glance, others not.
Tension thick in the air, the frontmost youth parted his firm lips.
"Young Master."
Eom Pung, appointed as Seo Mun-ha's deputy.
The handsome, stern-faced youth left a strong impression as a specially selected warrior for the new unit's vice leader.
"Fewer than I heard."
Seo Mun-ha scanned them one by one.
They flinched under his skeptical gaze but wisely held their tongues.
"Eom Pung, was it?"
Time for first orders and assignments.
"Yes, Young Master."
After eyeing the warriors briefly, Seo Mun-ha nodded indifferently.
Talented or not, it was by ordinary standards.
Among those who could swing heavy blades with ease, only Eom Pung at peak realm was passable.
"Previously with the Western Dragon Squad, below the Ascending Dragon Squadron."
Leading by example, Eom Pung continued lowly.
"Heard the Ascending Dragon Squadron was wiped out?"
"Unfortunate... I was excluded from that mission. And their survival's still uncertain."
His exclusion due to a family matter made him subtly frown.
He disliked presuming on comrades' fates, yet his ingrained principles kept him polite.
"The clan's steward is my maternal uncle. He's personally urged me to serve you—er, Squadron Leader Seo Mun—from today."
"I see."
Seo Mun-ha smirked.
'Squadron Leader, my foot.'
No ceremonies for house entry, unit formation, or naming—they skipped everything.
Compared to prestigious clans valuing formality, this was utterly unconventional.
Considering the Seo Mun Clan's prestige, it was a shoddy unit of misfits.
'Guess they want me to raise them.'
Woefully short on numbers aside, Seo Mun-ha grasped his father's intent.
Names usually carry meaning.
Defining it as a unit made Seo Mun Jeong-cheon's will clear. What opportunity it brought? Unknown yet.
"Squadron Leader, the others' introductions—"
"No need."
Seo Mun-ha cut him off dismissively.
"Introductions or talents, whatever."
"... "
"Three days from now, at dawn, we depart for Hangzhou. Dismissed."
Murmurs rippled through the squad at the curt briefing.
'What the... this guy.'
Eom Pung mirrored their stunned faces.
First real talk, but rumors had worn his ears raw.
Seo Mun Clan's Third Young Master.
Eom Pung knew, and the new Jeonam recruits too—scoundrel tales inescapable.
Daily news.
Entering the great clan inflated last year's feats, making the meeting anticipated. Yet he dashed all expectations effortlessly.
"Um, Young Master... "
Yang Jeong cautiously raised a hand, watching.
Two men quietly off to the side.
Yang Jeong and Gu Chil, still unused to "Squadron Leader."
Transferred from Black Wind Unit, they'd rocketed from squad members to squad leaders. The timing supercharged their promotions.
Losing Black Wind drills broke the monotony.
But breathless days soured the initial thrill. Pros and cons hit unexpectedly.
"Don't we need more explanation?"
"Hm."
Considering Yang Jeong's input, Seo Mun-ha added,
"Long journey ahead, so pack yourselves. Details on schedule and duties from Squad Leaders Yang and Gu."
With that unilateral notice, he exited the training ground.
"What?"
"That's it?"
Grumbles erupted among the rest.
"...Tch, acting all high and mighty."
First impressions? Utterly disastrous.
Tsking feigned indifference, sly backbiting.
Murmurs swelled until Yang Jeong and Gu Chil barked warnings.
"Hey! Watch your mouths!"
Handling troublemakers, they enforced discipline befitting rank. But the squad's reaction was uniform.
Current gripes whispered.
"Why provoke them like that?"
Eom Pung, glancing back from afar, probed Seo Mun-ha's intent.
"Hm?"
Catching up swiftly.
"What about?"
"No need to rile the squad."
Eom Pung closed the gap with quick steps.
"Western Dragon Squad must prize camaraderie."
"Well... "
"Or maybe just you, Eom Pung?"
"Not exactly."
Sighing inwardly, Eom Pung pressed on.
"Make it clear."
"Coddling isn't always best. No grand motive."
"Still... basics matter. No introductions or greetings? It'll breed distrust and resentment—embarrassing the main house."
True to his rigid demeanor, Eom Pung clung to principles.
"Sounds like you're the distrustful one."
"...Can't deny that."
"No need to voice the obvious."
"Pardon?"
"Second from the left. Manicured nails for a guy. Fabric-savvy look—fourth son of Gyeonghyeon's fabric shop, Ga-yul? Word is his womanizing's famous cross-village."
"... "
"Plus the scribe's second, smithy's third, and..."
With the roster beforehand, Seo Mun-ha knew their backgrounds cold.
"We didn't gather to air dirty laundry."
"True... "
"Can't fix people. The drifters leave, stayers stay. Three days, results show."
Eom Pung recalled the training ground.
"To the squad leaders?"
"Gave 'em their usual drills."
Detailed schedule and duties.
New recruits who'd passed hurdles under the clan's plaque now faced another.
Weed out before instilling discipline.
"Stirring discontent... "
Fitting the old scoundrel-taming-pro tales, and Eom Pung saw Seo Mun-ha's adept handling.
"Main house in straits or not, foolish allies scare more than foes."
"Sounds like experience."
Eom Pung wryly smiled.
"Curiosity sated?"
"Somewhat."
He got a sense of Seo Mun-ha.
Setting aside past rumors, Eom Pung followed his footsteps out the outer courtyard to Jeonam's famed market street.
'Here...?'
Not ideal to question endlessly as subordinate, but Eom Pung couldn't help wondering.
So Hwa Pavilion.
Stern-faced before the elegant building.
"May I ask your business?"
"You sure have a knack for stiff talk."
Seo Mun-ha chuckled dryly—it was practically a question itself.
More habitual restraint than mere courtesy, his impassivity rivaled lifetimes apart.
This crew evoked Embroidered Uniform Guards over Iron Cavalry from his past life.
Small scale, jail-managing warriors all Eom Pung-like.
Chronologically, Eom Pung resembled them...
"How many in this unit?"
Profound Heaven Unit, centered on Seo Mun-ha.
"Including me, thirty total."
Reestablishment, technically.
Gu Jung Cheon: nine heavens' directions. Hyun Cheon: northern one. Eerily fated name.
"But why that?"
"Only twenty-eight at drill. Three no-shows. Probably slipped out early morn."
Seo Mun-ha reread the massive So Hwa Pavilion sign.
Bold fools had limits to thick skins.
Disobeying superior amid his rep? Not dumb enough to strut the clan.
"Disciplining them yourself. But how'd you know they're here?"
"Simple."
Clan-bound, couldn't roam freely.
Farthest: half-day trip.
Early hour ruled out brothels. Seo Mun-ha narrowed suspects easily.
"Troublemakers stick to patterns."
Wine, women, gambling—literal vices.
Opium et al. off-limits for them.
"Drinking and fun fine in daylight."
Human psyche: complex yet simple.
Passed brutal trials—who wouldn't brag?
"Won't ignore main house eyes entirely. Not grouping? One's surely here."
Catch one, others follow.
"Experience too...?"
"Who knows?"
Once-infamous scoundrel's word carried weight.
"Market's new to you, Deputy."
So Hwa Pavilion: gambling house.
"Head back first?"
Lowlifes, fake officials, warriors mixed—squalor sans status.
"Don't underestimate."
Ill-suited to the upright youth, Eom Pung bristled at the backhanded courtesy.
"I'll follow."
Stepping forward boldly.
Seo Mun-ha shrugged and trailed into So Hwa Pavilion.
Bang! Crash!
Thus began the noisy newbies' Hangzhou trek.