Front Yard Plunder (6)
Chun-il was set to arrive at the Songbi Inn the next morning.
Since his employer was my father rather than me, he needed a face-to-face with him first.
Our business at the Daejin Pavilion was now wrapped up.
After Chun-il left the private room, Palgap hurried over to me.
"Young master! That gisaeng who just left... was a man, wasn't she? I mean, he?"
"Yeah."
"Wha-wha-what...?"
"How's that even possible? No idea."
I continued,
"As you probably guessed, his background's a bit iffy, but he's going to be family from now on, so treat him well."
"Got it, young master."
"Then call over a server, would you?"
At my words, Palgap pulled the cord to ring the bell, and moments later, a server entered.
"You called, sir?"
"Yes, we were having such a great time that I nearly forgot an important appointment. I should head out now."
"Ah, of course."
"How much do we owe?"
I settled the bill with the server.
"And feel free to help yourselves to the leftovers. I've eaten my share separately with clean chopsticks."
The server's face lit up at my words.
"Thank you, sir."
There was far too much food for me alone, so I'd portioned it out neatly from the start.
Inn servers and maids, and most hired help in general, weren't provided separate meals.
That's why folks working at places like this often picked through the decent leftovers to save on food costs.
Knowing that, I'd made sure to eat cleanly on purpose.
I wanted them to have days like this too.
I could've avoided touching anything at all, but that might've just bred suspicion.
In any case, that's why the Eunhae Merchant Group's cheap meal perks made the staff love working there.
The next day.
True to his word, Chun-il showed up at the Songbi Inn at the crack of dawn.
After his meeting with Father, it was decided he'd head to the Eunhae Merchant Group headquarters with him.
And right after breakfast, my parents set off for the main branch.
Of course, Outer Division Manager Go Il-pyeong went along, and for my safety, Father left behind one squad leader from the Silver Wind Squad plus half a squad.
After seeing off my parents and their entourage, I looked around the suddenly quiet inn.
Before they departed, Merchant Lord Sa Gu-cheol and Sub-leader Sa Gang had also left for the Hongryeon Merchant Group's main branch in Shaanxi, emptying the place out even more.
"Whew!"
I took a deep breath and stepped out of the inn.
Now that I'd carved out this time, I needed to tie up all the loose ends I'd planned.
Moments later,
I arrived at the small bookstore on Bookseller Street that I'd visited yesterday.
I told Palgap and the escorts to wait outside, then went in alone.
As before, the elderly shopkeeper sat at his desk, tending to his work.
The moment I entered, he looked up at me.
And cut straight to it.
"So, what brings you here with questions?"
"You do, elder."
He gave a faint smile at my reply.
"What's so curious about a doddering old man like me?"
"Why did you recommend that manual to my servant?"
"Because he has talent."
Confirmed.
The old man before me knew Palgap was born with the talent of the Slayer King.
"How did you know my servant had talent?"
"I saw it."
I took a small breath, clasped my hands in respect, and asked,
"Who are you, elder?"
In response, he gestured to the books around him.
"Right now, just an old man running a little bookstore."
That told me he was someone who'd made waves in the past.
Saying he was just that now implied he'd done something remarkable before.
"I only recommended it because it seemed a shame to waste that talent."
I could've pressed further and uncovered his identity, but I didn't.
He seemed like a master even beyond my own teacher, and he bore me no ill will.
No need to push and sour things.
I bowed politely once more in gratitude.
"I've taken your words to heart. Thank you for seeing my servant's potential and recommending that manual."
The elder nodded.
"Then I'll take my leave."
"Already?"
"Yes. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you further—that wouldn't be proper respect. Farewell."
As I turned to go, his voice rang out.
"Slayer Kings were servants first, before they were Slayer Kings, generation after generation."
"Pardon?"
"The previous Slayer King was a loyal servant too."
With that, the elder returned to his work.
A clear dismissal.
He'd acted like he wouldn't say a word, yet dropped that hint—more goodwill toward me than I'd thought.
Back at the inn moments later, I picked up the manual the elder had recommended for Palgap and read it over again.
Maybe because of what he'd said about all Slayer Kings being servants first?
The contents hit differently now.
Techniques like concealing one's presence or never missing a target could be reframed for a servant: staying unobtrusively out of his lord's way, or tracking his master's whereabouts.
Just who the hell is that old man?
Even knowing about the previous Slayer King marked him as no ordinary figure.
I'd backed off for now, but this was just one step back for two steps forward.
I wasn't about to let talent that'd fallen into my lap slip away—I'd lose sleep over it.
Was that thing tomorrow? Or the day after?
My heart raced at the thought of scooping up the treasure the Baekcheon Merchant Group had discarded.
Baekcheon Merchant Group.
It was a merchant group funded by the Murim Alliance.
They claimed to spread justice through commerce, but that was just a front.
The real reason for its founding was to divert the elders' attention from the Alliance's internal affairs.
The man appointed as its leader: Namgung Kang.
He didn't know why the diversion was needed either.
But he didn't pry. His gut told him it was best not to know.
What captivated him now was the superiority of the title "Merchant Lord."
The subtle thrill of countless people bowing and scraping under that name filled him with joy.
He had zero interest in operations.
The proxy managers hired by the Alliance handled everything.
All he did was stamp the approvals on documents from the head proxy.
And recently, that head proxy had died.
The man who'd run the group for years—his death stirred not regret or mourning in Namgung Kang, but irritation.
Dying out of the blue and making things annoying.
Well, at least he'd groomed a successor well enough to keep things running smoothly. The guy had a conscience.
For once, Namgung Kang felt like巡视 the group beyond his office.
He wandered aimlessly until he reached the staff quarters.
"Eek! M-Merchant Lord, greetings!"
"Greetings, Merchant Lord!"
The servants dropped to the ground at the sight of him, and he basked in it smugly.
Then his eyes caught a young man.
A cane lay beside him.
Out of place for a sturdy-looking youth—that's what drew his gaze.
Thud. Thud.
Drawing near, Namgung Kang noticed the youth's leg was different from normal.
His right leg was gone.
"What's this? A cripple? Is this bastard on our payroll too?"
A trembling staffer replied,
"Th-this young man is the son of the late head proxy."
"That old fart's son?"
"Yes."
"Did that geezer use his position to get his crippled son hired here?"
"N-no, sir. He pulls his weight, that's why he works here."
"What weight can a cripple pull? He'll just eat us out of house and home. Whatever—kick this cripple out. I don't need trash like him in my group."
"Pardon?"
"Do it now."
"B-but please, consider the late head proxy's hard work and show some mercy."
"We're begging you."
Namgung Kang just snorted at their pleas.
"A cripple practicing the Six Joint Sword? Hard work my ass... He sat pretty as head proxy, eating well and living easy. The nerve, dumping this cripple on us before croaking."
"......"
"What're you waiting for? Drag him out now!"
He summoned the guards and had the man hauled away right there.
As the staff watched pityingly, Namgung Kang added,
"If anyone feels sorry for that guy and lets him back in, you'll be out on your ass too. Watch yourselves."
The staff had no choice but to look away as the guards dragged him off.
A gust of wind blew in.
The late autumn chill made a young man huddled by a wall shiver.
"Huh? Dad, there's a weird guy over there."
"I see."
But the biting wind and harsh stares meant nothing to him now.
He was burning with rage.
His name was Heo Woon.
Sole son of the Baekcheon Merchant Group's late head proxy.
His father had been an orphan. His mother too.
Meaning he was utterly alone now.
And he had a disability.
No right leg.
It hadn't been that way from birth.
A carriage accident while working for the group.
The physician called surviving a miracle, but Heo Woon cursed the heavens.
What's the point of living? He'd tried to end it, but couldn't because of his father.
The man who'd worked day and night to support him, ashamed of burdening the other staff.
The so-called Merchant Lord rarely showed his face, and Father had scrambled to fill the gaps—Heo Woon knew it well.
Now Father was gone.
Overwork had worsened his illness.
Staff found him slumped dead over his cold desk and helped with the funeral.
Afterward, Heo Woon kept working at Baekcheon. He pulled his weight despite his condition.
But yesterday, he'd been kicked out.
Out of nowhere, Merchant Lord Namgung Kang appeared and booted him.
Heo Woon shrugged off the cripple taunts.
They stung, but he'd heard them so often in passing that calluses had formed.
But... insulting his father? That cut too deep to bear.
And that grief turned to fury.
All that suffering for the group—for the lord—and it was erased with one sentence.
Gurgle.
His stomach rumbled. Come to think of it, he hadn't eaten since last night's dinner—or lack thereof.
The guards had tossed him out as-is; he hadn't grabbed anything from the group.
Baekcheon had dorms for resident staff, where Heo Woon lived.
Father couldn't leave his post even briefly, so the whole family stayed there.
Meaning all their saved money was still inside.
Other staff might've wanted to grab it for him, but with Namgung Kang glaring, they couldn't.
He sighed.
"How... am I supposed to live now?"
Penniless in an instant, his future looked bleak.
Who'd hire someone like him?
He knew it himself.
No matter how capable, his appearance bred prejudice first.
That was when it happened.
"Hey, mister."
He turned to see beggars.
"Who said you could work this spot?"
"Huh? I'm just... sitting here."
Thwack!
One beggar kicked Heo Woon, sending him sprawling.
"Easy, boss. Looks like a cripple."
He couldn't even protest amid their cackling.
Anyone looking would peg him as a beggar-cripple.
That was when it happened.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Turning toward the voice, he saw a handsome young man in fine clothes staring them down.
Behind him stood a bearish servant-type and three escorts.
For some reason, a chill emanated from the youth's eyes.
"I asked, what the hell are you doing?"