Chapter 303
Chapter 303
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 303
Chapter Title: Hong Gyeon
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Dang Mujin clicked his tongue the moment he heard Hong Geolgae's story.
"Tsk. I always knew something like this would happen eventually."
From what Dang Mujin had observed so far, Hong Geolgae's gambling had a peculiar edge. Not a hundred percent win rate, but out of ten dice rolls, he won six.
If he played long enough, he'd come out ahead in the end, but he had figured there could be risks when the stakes were middling. This was the first time he'd actually seen him lose money, though.
Dang Mujin asked Hong Geolgae,
"Did you go all in at once, riding high?"
Hong Geolgae shook his head.
"No. I spread it out."
"How much?"
"They said the bigger tables started at a minimum of three taels of silver, so I adjusted the bets accordingly."
"And?"
"I rolled the dice five times and lost three."
His friend had come back broke, but Dang Mujin grinned.
A beggar finally having the pocketbook woes of a true beggar—couldn't that be seen as things falling into natural order?
Of course, such natural order didn't always guarantee a sweet outcome.
Dang Mujin slung an arm around Hong Geolgae's shoulder and said,
"Anyway, now that it's come to this... we gotta go, right?"
Hong Geolgae hung his head low.
*
The next morning, Hong Geolgae clutched a small wooden plaque and headed alone to the tournament registration desk.
The plaque's contents were straightforward.
[Beggars' Sect Five-Knot Beggar Hong Jusam]
A participant's plaque only needed to include basic details like their name and a brief description.
But most entrants started with their sect's name and filled it with lengthy boasts and flowery language. After all, the announcer always read the plaque aloud when introducing tournament fighters.
Of course, Hong Geolgae had no intention of doing that. He already felt humiliated enough just by entering the tournament.
'Please, let there not be too many people around.'
That was why he'd aimed for early morning to hit the registration desk—when the fewest people would be there.
Hong Geolgae's plan was simple: register on the sly, then show up to the tournament with brazen confidence, sweep the challengers cleanly, and claim a modest victory.
Since humiliation was inevitable anyway, this was the least embarrassing method he'd devised.
But the plan went awry from the start. There were an unnaturally high number of people around the registration desk.
Not people lining up to register. More than twenty who were peeking at the desk without queuing.
'...What the hell?'
Hong Geolgae didn't know that the tournament came with an intelligence war.
A junior martial tournament was a stage for the younger generation to showcase and compete in their skills, but it was also a fierce battle for family and sect honor.
If a clan's juniors performed well, it spread their name far and wide, so it was only natural for clan and sect members to throw their full support behind entrants.
One such method was the intel game: scout who was entering, analyze their martial arts' strengths and weaknesses, and prepare counters.
Everyone eyeing the registration desk had one thing in common. They were the types who knew every martial world rumor going around.
They had to identify entrants to do their jobs.
As Hong Geolgae crept toward the desk, more than twenty pairs of eyes stabbed into the back of his head. His nape practically burned.
The moment Hong Geolgae ignored the stares and reached to hand over his plaque, he heard murmurs.
"That... that guy. Isn't that Gui Beggar Hong Jusam? The youngest of the Central Plains' absolute peak masters. Didn't he just break through to absolute peak recently?"
"Let me see... Under thirty, bushy hair, gentle eyes. Shabby but decently clean clothes, weapon is a staff. And above all, that sash with five knots. Has to be him. No doubt."
He wished he hadn't heard it, but Hong Geolgae's hearing was exceptionally sharp.
The whispers kept coming.
"But why's Gui Beggar lurking around registration? He planning to enter the tournament?"
"Come on, no way. Physician Dragon—his close friend—flat-out said they wouldn't enter. I heard it clear as day myself."
"But... he's right there by the desk."
Someone answered the repeated question with exasperation.
"Sigh, Physician Dragon just asked the registrar something and left. He even explained so people wouldn't misunderstand before going. Gui Beggar's probably here for the same reason—just has a question."
"Oh, really?"
"Of course! No way he'd bulldoze into the tournament despite his friend's warning. I've heard Gui Beggar's not that shameless."
"But it's weird he's here alone, without his friends... Looks kinda sneaky."
Hong Geolgae had come solo because traveling with his buddies would invite endless teasing—he could see it plain as day.
But even without them, the ordeal was fated. Only the source of the misery would change.
After standing frozen for a long while, the registrar asked Hong Geolgae,
"Are you here to register?"
His hand trembled, clutching the plaque.
Hong Geolgae had thought his beggar-thick skin was pretty tough from years on the road. He'd shrugged off casual stares plenty of times.
But this was beyond what mere shamelessness could handle. Far from handing over the plaque, he tucked it into his bosom like someone might spot it.
Yes, in the end, Hong Geolgae failed to overcome the trial.
"Ah... no. I came to ask something, but I just figured it out myself."
"Oh. Alright. Good for you."
The registrar replied indifferently. Unlike the others, he hadn't recognized Hong Geolgae.
Hong Geolgae loitered a bit longer around the desk, then trudged back to the inn.
*
"...And that's what happened."
As Hong Geolgae explained, ears burning red, his friends grew even more delighted.
One man's misery can be another's joy.
Namgung Myeong slammed the table and barked,
"What?! That's it? Nothing's solved!"
"Uh... sorry."
"If 'sorry' fixed everything in this world, why would we even need constables!"
Dang Mujin sidled up again, draping an arm over Hong Geolgae's shoulder.
"Hey. I could've understood if you hadn't blown the gold piece too... but you did, right? Ever hear of settling your own debts?"
Hyeon-gong sat at the table, fingers laced under his chin, and said,
"Back off, Dang Mujin. Hong Geolgae's the type who gets tougher the more he's stepped on and bent. He'll definitely finish registering and be back before lunch."
"You think so?"
"Ask again, and I'll take it as doubting Hong Geolgae."
"Whoa! Dodged a bullet there."
The three demons circled the pitiful Hong Geolgae, tormenting him. Yang Physician and Yeom Physician watched from the next table, kneading their thighs in amusement.
Then, the group's last member appeared. Seolhwa descended the stairs.
She greeted in a brighter voice than usual.
"Good morning!"
"Yeah. Slept well, huh."
But Seolhwa looked a bit different from normal.
Usually, her hair hung loose, but today it was neatly braided up. Her lips were a touch redder, her cheeks faintly flushed with better color. Even her outfit seemed off.
Slight changes here and there, yet she looked like a whole new person.
Hyeon-gong, a little tense, stammered,
"Y-You look... really different."
"I was told to rest today, so I dolled up!"
The phrasing was odd, but the meaning was clear enough.
Unlike her usual busy wandering, she'd be staying put in Muchang for a while, so she must've dressed up for a change of pace.
Eager to show off her rare primped look, Seolhwa roamed the inn's interior for a good while before heading out.
No one worried about Seolhwa. Excluding Dang Mujin's group, her skills were top-tier for her age. She could probably rank in the tournament without issue. Without that confidence, she never would've come to this distant land.
The others quickly resumed teasing Hong Geolgae, but Dang Mujin was different. He'd spotted a solution from Seolhwa.
After pondering deeply for a stretch, Dang Mujin spoke up.
"If you're embarrassed, why not hide your face?"
Seolhwa, who'd just left—and Dang Mujin's words. Everyone could guess what he meant.
Hong Geolgae, who'd been meekly taking the ribbing till now, turned serious.
"You saying I should put on makeup? Ridiculous. No way in hell."
"No. Who said makeup? I thought of another way."
"What way?"
Dang Mujin tapped the table with his finger, two quick raps, recalling details.
"Hong Geolgae. You know about gu-an-wa-sa—mouth-eye deviation? Or crooked mouth and eye syndrome?"
"Of course."
Hong Geolgae knew the medical term not from lingering at the Dang estate, but from before meeting Dang Mujin.
Sometimes, after collapsing and reviving, a person's eyes and mouth twist to one side. They can't control their facial movements. That's called gu-an-wa-sa.
Dang Mujin continued,
"It's when you can't freely contract or relax the facial muscles, causing the symptoms. As you've seen, sufferers' faces change dramatically. Families sometimes don't even recognize them at first."
Yang and Yeom Physicians, listening nearby, caught on.
"Like how gu-an-wa-sa alters one's appearance drastically, you're thinking of deliberately tensing the muscles to change Hero Hong's face?"
"Exactly. If no one recognizes Hong Geolgae, the problem's mostly solved."
"Hoo..."
"Do you two think it's feasible?"
The physicians pondered deeply.
Soon, the answer Dang Mujin wanted came.
"If he can finely control his facial muscles with internal energy, it should be entirely possible."
The verdict matched from three skilled physicians.
It appealed to Hong Geolgae too. Flaunting his identity to enter would be utterly humiliating, but competing incognito could be a fun experience—the kind he'd secretly hoped for before.
Dang Mujin asked,
"How much time left for registration?"
"Three days... No. They close at sunset the day after tomorrow, so about two days and half a day."
Could they invent a face-altering trick in just two and a half days?
For an ordinary martial artist, not even two and a half years of effort would suffice.
But Dang Mujin's group was uniquely perfect for the task.
Two absolute peaks, the world's top physician, and two more excellent ones. Plus a female expert from the northern outer martial world and a random Daoist.
A lineup of the Central Plains' finest experts in both martial arts and medicine.
Optimally suited for developing this nameless trick.
Dang Mujin nodded.
"It's possible."
But Hong Geolgae couldn't shake his anxiety.
"...What if it fails?"
Dang Mujin grinned wickedly.
"What else? You'd go down in history as the first absolute peak to enter a junior tournament."
*
Two days later, that evening, as registration neared its close.
Latecomers, who'd been scoping things out, finally rushed to enter.
Few were scrubs—those swarmed at opening bell.
These were top-contender hopefuls.
The cautious types who'd vetted the field and seen entry potential.
Or at least those confident they wouldn't shame their clan or sect.
Entrants eyed each other's caliber warily.
'That guy's Jil Pung Swift Sword Ju Il-seop from Qingdao. The one lining up now looks like Jeogal Seop of Bokryong Mountain. I can handle those levels easy.'
'That short-haired woman has unusual robes... Emei Sect? Lucky the righteous-demonic war kept many sects away. Good draw, and I could place decently.'
Then, a young man appeared, and the crowd parted.
Heroic crown on his head, gray martial robes. No one at the tournament failed to recognize him.
Namgung Hyeon, one of the Namgung Clan's top juniors.
But no one panicked much. To them, Namgung Hyeon was like a natural disaster.
If an overwhelming powerhouse showed, just compete for runner-up instead of winner.
People stepped back, giving him space, thinking similarly.
'Hope I get a good bracket. If Namgung Hyeon knocks out the other studs, I might snag a high spot as the fisherman...'
Namgung Hyeon confidently placed his plaque on the table and left.
[Namgung Clan Namgung Hyeon]—seven characters radiating immense presence.
Behind him came a Beggars' Sect disciple, presence faint. Sash knotted just twice.
His face stiff with nerves.
The disciple set a small plaque on the table.
[Zhuul Village Beggars' Sect Disciple Hong Gyeon]
Unlike Namgung Hyeon's, no one spared it a glance.
The disciple appeared with dim presence, then quietly vanished.