50 Ways to Enchant Old Monsters (6)
I finished the sword dance and opened my eyes. Unlike before, I felt twice as refreshed. And the first thing I did was confirm where I was. This time, it was definitely my hall.
"What the hell are these people?"
Yeah, it was my place, sure. But it was weird seeing all these strangers staring at me with fervent eyes. I felt like some kind of sideshow freak.
Why's that old geezer acting like that?
Among them were some familiar faces. Their eyes were glazed over—definitely not normal.
Where the hell is that old man looking? How dare he leer at our head maid granny?
There was even one old guy whose wandering gaze I recognized. As I pondered who to ask about this situation, someone approached me.
"Heh heh, so you're Namgung Daeso, the youngest young master of the Namgung Clan?"
It was an old man I'd never seen before. My first impression? Total sleaze.
"Yeah, and?"
"Pleased to meet you. I'm the Gold King."
"Who the hell's that?"
A name? Nah, sounded more like a nickname.
"...You don't know the Gold King?"
The old man looked utterly baffled as he asked back. What, like I should?
"Is the Gold King more famous than the Martial God?"
"Well... no."
"More famous than the Heavenly Demon?"
"That... no."
"Then you're not that famous. Where's all that confidence coming from? And I don't remember inviting this many guests—why's everyone crammed in here?"
I was starting to get annoyed. The maids must've noticed, because they were already nowhere to be seen. I'd been thinking discipline had gotten lax lately. Guess I needed to reassert my authority soon. But how? I'd never done it before. Made me miss my crazy brothers all of a sudden. One of them could've handled it right.
That's when the head maid came over and cleared things up.
"We heard you had prior appointments with these gentlemen, young master."
"What bullshit is that? I've never made any such appointments."
Aside from those two old men, everyone else was a total stranger.
"Amitabha."
The one-armed old monk chanted as he wedged himself between me and the head maid. I'd been annoyed by his side-eyes at her anyway—perfect timing. I pulled her behind me and asked,
"You seem to know the reason, old timer?"
The one-armed monk let out a long sigh like a defeated general and said,
"Sorry about barging in like this. But we did have prior appointments. The membership fees, remember?"
"Membership fees? You mean that 100-nyang silver thing?"
"Yes, that's it!"
"So all these people here paid the membership fee? 100 nyang of silver each? That'd be at least 5,000 nyang total. And they all look like beggars at a glance?"
"......"
I'd hit the nail on the head, apparently—the one-armed monk clamped his mouth shut.
"I've got the money."
The self-proclaimed Gold King answered in his place.
"Who the hell are you to keep butting in?"
"Ahem. If you don't know the Gold King, surely you've heard of Jeon-gwi?"
Okay, one thing was clear: this old man had massive ego.
"Nope."
"Huh? You don't know that either? Gold King or Jeon-gwi?"
"No."
"Immeasurable Buddha. Hold on, let me sort this out."
The prune-faced old man, whose eyes had been unfocused moments ago, suddenly snapped to and jumped in. Fine, let's hear it. If it turns out they came empty-handed, I'd kick them out. Not that I was great at that anyway.
Come to think of it, wasn't I too nice? If it were my brothers, they'd have chopped off an arm or gutted someone—or both. Wait, is that normal? As my imagination ran wild, the prune-faced old man continued.
"The era we were active was 30 years ago. No surprise the current generation doesn't know us."
I nodded like it was obvious. I was only 11—stuff from way before I was born? No way.
"How about we start with introductions? But no nicknames or real names—just say which sect or group you were with. Easier to remember that way. What do you say, young Namgung hero?"
"Sounds good. Not a bad idea for a dim-witted old coot. Would've been better if you'd used that brain for martial arts."
"Ugh... thanks for the recognition."
The prune-faced old man made a bitter face but agreed. Tsk tsk—when someone gives sincere advice, you oughta be grateful.
I pointed at the two old men first.
"This one was a Shaolin monk who fled the temple."
"Amitabha."
The one-armed monk squeezed his eyes shut and chanted. Why? I wasn't wrong.
"And this one was a Wudang Taoist who also ran away."
"Immeasurable Buddha."
Like true buddies, they reacted the same.
"That's them. What about the rest?"
"Ahem."
The egotistical one cleared his throat first.
"I used to run a merchant company. Retired now."
"Merchant company? What's it called?"
Better check if they were scammers.
"Ahem, just a small outfit on the frontier."
"Where exactly?"
"You're persistent. It's called Tianxia Jeonjang."
"Next..."
Huh? Tianxia Jeonjang? I almost moved on, but the name stuck.
"You don't mean the Tianxia Jeonjang scattered across the Central Plains, do you?"
"There are branches everywhere, but back in the day, we were called the world's greatest auction house."
"Pfft~ You lie so smoothly, like it's true. Right?"
I glanced at the prune-faced old man.
"True. That guy's loaded. Filthy rich."
"For real?"
I turned to the one-armed monk.
"Amitabha. Yes."
"This old beggar really owns Tianxia Jeonjang? His clothes are rags, and he looks the part."
The egotistical old man chuckled heartily. Looking closer, yeah, he had that rich merchant vibe.
"I got some reports on the way here... You left some interesting items with our auction house. Consistently, for a whole year."
Gasp! Only me, the maids, and the head maid knew that! Besides the maids, the only ones in the know would be the auction house staff!
"We keep secrets tight, so I won't say what you consigned... But if you don't believe me, I can spill it right here."
Seemed legit. But why was a rich guy slumming it with these beggar old-timers at the Namgung Clan?
"Fine. But show me proof you're trustworthy."
"Heh heh, proof... This do?"
With a swipe, he pulled some papers from his bosom.
"All I have on me right now, so not sure if it's enough."
"Five of them!"
Ilseon Dosa exclaimed in shock.
"Jeon-gwi, you old ghost! Still at it!"
Mujikja gawked at the bills in Geum Dondong's hand.
"How much is that even worth?"
And not just them—most people here were stunned.
"Never seen that much money in my life."
"50,000 nyang of silver!"
Each bill was worth 10,000 nyang of silver, stamped with the Tianxia Jeonjang seal.
That's the real deal!
I dropped all suspicion, flashed a warm merchant's smile, and bowed deeply.
"Aigoo! I didn't realize we had such esteemed guests—keeping you in the heat like this!"
I barked an order I wouldn't normally give to the hidden maids.
"What are you lot doing? Escort these VIPs to the guest quarters, now!"
The maids popped out and guided Geum Dondong.
"This way, sir."
Old man to "lordship" in a flash.
"We'll attend to you."
"Come on, hurry!"
They thought to themselves,
He's loved money since he was little.
Young Daeso went nuts over cash.
Our young master's great and all, but he's such a cheapskate with money.
The nursery poverty stemmed not just from tight funds, but Daeso's stingy streak.
Whoa, look at the young master's eyes sparkling! First time for that.
Then Geum Dondong halted mid-stride under the maids' guidance.
"Heh heh, I'll go in, but I haven't said this money's yours yet."
Right—no free lunch.
"What do you want?"
"How about a deal? If it goes through, I promise full support—50,000 nyang of silver, 100,000, whatever."
"Please, come inside! Whatever you desire, I'll do my utmost!"
He fell for it hook, line, and sinker.
Totally hooked.
Done for.
"Oh, and sorry, but the rest of you can head out."
Mujikja and Ilseon Dosa realized things had gone sideways.
Never expected the kid to be such a money grubber!
"Amitabha. Young hero, hear us out first. Didn't you say you needed forces?"
"Yeah! How can a man fall for money like that?!"
I turned to the two old men.
"Can't eat without money, can you?"
"......"
"Can't sleep well without it?"
"......"
"Can't even wear clothes without it?"
"......"
The two were speechless. Then the lord spoke up.
"They're involved in why I'm here too. Talking quietly inside isn't bad, but seeing your sword dance stirred my old competitive fire."
"Yes, my lord. Go on."
A world of difference from how I treated the other two.
"This is separate—a personal request. Do you know a Namgung Cheon?"
"You don't mean Elder Namgung Cheon, do you?"
"That's the bastard."
"What about the elder...?"
"I want revenge on him."
"Did the elder scam you or something?"
"You think I'd fall for a con?"
Yeah, that prick would scam anyone.
Amitabha. He'd con the conned.
Mujikja and Ilseon Dosa nodded inwardly. Geum Dondong continued,
"We sparred once, long ago."
I thought I'd misheard.
"From what I know, Elder Namgung Cheon's at the Hwagyeong realm."
"Hwagyeong, my ass—I just want to see him planted in the dirt. Can you make it happen?"
Make it happen? Against a Hwagyeong master? One who'd been there over a decade? A chill ran up my spine—familiar feeling.
I asked the nameless guy next to the lord,
"You sticking around for revenge too?"
"Yes."
"On who?"
"Third squad of the Changgung Sword Company, Namgung Chilbo."
Haha! Almost burst out laughing. I asked the next one,
"You too?"
"Indeed!"
Same resolute answer.
"Who?"
"Fifth squad of the Daeyeon Sword Company, Namgung Hwache!"
I went down the line, asking everyone.
And they all said more or less the same.
"Cheongpung Sword Company..."
"Daeyeon Sword Company..."
"Changgung Sword Company..."
"Retired..."
"Former Daeyeon Sword Company squad member..."
"Former Changgung Sword Company squad member..."
Holy shit.
These people... And before I knew it, the thought slipped out.
"Did the whole group lose their minds or what...?"
Uh...?
Did they all hear that?