Chapter 469: Bring Me Proof That He’s a Swindler!
Geum Ajong simply couldn’t understand the situation.
Fine, let’s say—for argument’s sake—that the guy was a better martial artist than the Money Bugs.
But he actually made those savage, rough, arrogant bastards act this meekly? How?
The one over there, clearing broken stones off the ground, never even bothered to greet him before. He was the type who lived like each day was his last, utterly shameless. And now he was wearing that docile expression? Geum Ajong had never seen that before.
Meanwhile, Geom Mugeuk walked up toward the two of them.
At that moment, one of the nearby Money Bugs dropped the stone he was clearing.
When Geom Mugeuk picked it up and handed it back, the Money Bug flinched, thinking he was about to be struck, and fell flat on his rear in shock.
Watching the scene, Geum Ajong was speechless.
‘Unbelievable. Just unbelievable.’
This was what he couldn’t make sense of.
If the Money Bugs had their arms or legs cut off, he could understand. If they’d really been brutalized—so much that they had no choice but to crawl across the ground like worms—then sure, it would make sense.
But they were just beaten a little, and they’re already this obedient? Those ill-tempered thugs? What the hell kind of beating did they get?
“This is my sahyung.”
Geum Arin introduced her older brother to Geom Mugeuk.
“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Geom Yeon.”
There was no way Geum Ajong could look kindly upon Geom Mugeuk. But he couldn’t exactly confront him here and now, with the Money Bugs still cleaning, he couldn’t just say, “I know you’re a swindler.”
“I’ve heard a bit from my younger sibling.”
“And what did she say?”
Geom Mugeuk’s eyes naturally turned toward Geum Arin. There was a glimmer of gratitude in her gaze toward him.
‘Thank you—for not running away, and for not killing the Money Bugs.’
The fact that he hadn’t run away meant, at the very least, that he wasn’t a swindler, contrary to what Geum Ajong had claimed.
Geum Ajong, selfish as he was, cared more for himself than anything. So of course, even his temper had to be calculated.
“She said you’re extremely skilled.”
“A martial artist lives to give their all for those who recognize their worth.”
It’s because of money, obviously! Geum Ajong bit down the rage bubbling inside. And that wasn’t the only thing he wanted to shout.
That worthless attendant bastard!
He was clearly a swindler. But how the hell did some mere servant manage to make the Money Bugs submit? Was it a trick? Maybe his father’s a master? Yeah, that must be it. Someone inside that household must be a master. Probably not even his real father—someone they bought with money, most likely.
The one who answered his questions was Geum Arin. She couldn’t hold it back.
“I heard the Seodo Sect produced the champion of the Soaring Dragon Tournament?”
It was something she would’ve had to ask eventually, and she was ready to accept any answer. That’s why she could ask so calmly.
“So it was.”
That was the reason Geom Mugeuk had returned to using the name Seodo Sect. Because the sect had a history like this.
When judging someone, the only thing one can initially rely on is appearance—or surface facts.
The Seodo Sect produced the winner of the Soaring Dragon Tournament?
And Geom Yeon is that winner’s attendant?
It’s only natural to focus on such facts.
But facts are just a shell.
That Geom Yeon was actually Geom Mugeuk—that truth could only be seen by peeling away every layer of that shell.
But it wouldn’t be easy. The label of "attendant" had already clouded their judgment. The more stimulating the surface facts, the stronger the shield they form to obscure the truth.
“I heard the champion’s name was Seo Ryong.”
“That’s right. He’s my senior brother.”
“Your senior brother? But I heard you were Seo Ryong’s attendant?”
Then, an unexpected answer came from Geom Mugeuk’s lips.
“The granddaughter of the Alliance Leader liked me, so I had no choice but to act as an attendant.”
Since Jin Haryeong had taken him to the Alliance Leader, it sounded plausible.
“Ah! The greatness of love that transcends even social status!”
Geum Ajong and some nearby Money Bugs looked dumbfounded.
One of the Money Bugs even blurted out without thinking, “Insane!”
He immediately froze as he realized his reckless words. The Money Bugs next to him quickly pulled him back to the rear.
Watching the scene, Geum Ajong found the Money Bugs’ behavior even more ridiculous. They were practically putting on a show for Geom Mugeuk. And yet these bastards were being paid those absurd monthly wages?
Geum Arin turned to Geom Mugeuk.
“Is that really true?”
The granddaughter of the Alliance Leader liked this man? Well, it made sense—she had taken him to the Alliance Leader. The truth that had previously confused her had now changed.
From “Geom Yeon is just an attendant,” to “The granddaughter of the Alliance Leader liked him.”
“I’ll introduce Miss Jin to you next time. We’ve been like friends since then.”
Her doubts rose and fell, then her gaze shifted to the Money Bugs.
Yes, if it’s this man...
Geum Arin decided to believe. After all, she had staked her fate on him. So she would believe.
On the other hand, Geum Ajong’s thoughts went another way.
‘He’s definitely a swindler.’
Wasn’t it classic swindler behavior to flaunt connections with famous people?
The granddaughter of the Alliance Leader must have brought him to the Leader out of some rebellion against her family.
If that weren’t the case, why hadn’t he married her and instead was here trying to extract two million nyang? Despite having such incredible skills?
That’s why he was a swindler. Maybe he even swindled the granddaughter of the Alliance Leader out of money too.
While Geum Ajong’s mind spiraled in delusion, Geom Mugeuk called out to the Money Bugs.
“All right, if you’ve finished cleaning, gather around.”
The Money Bugs quickly assembled. They must have been ordered to wear kind expressions, because they all looked as innocent as could be.
Seeing it up close, Geum Ajong was even more dumbfounded.
That Money Bug’s forearm was as thick as this Geom Yeon’s waist. Didn’t he feel any shame?
No way… were they all drugged or something? There was no other explanation for how they could’ve lost to this young punk.
Geum Arin felt a deep sense of satisfaction as she watched the ones who used to act so arrogantly now cowering. She had every right to feel pleased. After all, Geom Yeon was now under her command.
Geom Mugeuk spoke to the Money Bugs.
“Well, you’ve worked hard. You may leave now.”
The Money Bugs bowed politely and exited the place.
Geum Ajong glared at them.
‘They’re really leaving just because he told them to?’
But they actually left without even looking back. Maybe their pride had taken a hit—but that only hurt Geum Ajong’s pride more. Even if they followed his father, he was still the man’s flesh and blood.
Geom Mugeuk turned to the two of them.
“Now that I think about it, both of you tried to have me killed. I guess it runs in the family—you just can’t seem to leave me alone. How many siblings do you have? Don’t tell me… nine?”
At Geom Mugeuk’s joke, Geum Arin’s face flushed slightly. Geum Ajong maintained a shameless expression, as if he hadn’t sent the Money Bugs at all.
“When are you departing? We’re already ready to leave.”
To Geom Mugeuk’s question, Geum Arin replied.
“Then let’s head out now. I’ll be back here in an hour.”
“Let’s do that. Lead the way, and we’ll follow your carriage.”
“See you soon, then.”
Geum Arin turned to leave, then turned back around and spoke again.
“Thank you.”
She didn’t say what for, but Geom Mugeuk smiled at her with a look that said he understood everything. And at that moment, Geum Arin felt it clearly.
‘So that’s what it was.’
She finally understood why she had been drawn to Geom Mugeuk. It was that composure. That relaxed smile was why she had invested two million nyang, why she had staked her fate on him. It was the calm of someone who seemed to understand everything.
With that, Geum Arin and Geum Ajong left the place. Geum Ajong said,
“That bastard’s a swindler.”
After a moment of silence, Geum Arin asked,
“Not you, then, Brother?”
The reproach that followed hit Geum Ajong squarely—sharp and stinging.
“You act like you're doing this for the Golden Dragon Family, but you're not, are you? If you were doing it for me, you would’ve talked to me first before sending the Money Bugs. You were just convinced I’d made a mistake and wanted to fix it to score points with Father, right?”
“What nonsense are you spewing?”
Geum Ajong snapped, trying to deny it as if she hadn’t struck a nerve. If things had gone according to his expectations, he would’ve answered differently—something like: ‘Serves you right, you’re completely out of Father’s favor now.’
“I’ll see you at the main house. Oh, and if you get the chance, be sure to thank the attendant. If you’d lost all the Money Bugs, you’d be the one out of Father’s favor.”
Geum Arin left first.
As he watched her retreating figure, Geum Ajong turned to look at the manor in the distance.
Through the half-open gate, he could see Geom Mugeuk. Geom Mugeuk was looking up at the sky, and oddly, he looked… lonely.
Then, as if he’d sensed Geum Ajong’s gaze, Geom Mugeuk turned his head and waved.
Geum Ajong whipped his head away and walked off quickly, pretending not to see.
His older brother had once told him: You’re greedy, and you’ve got the instincts of a swindler. Fine. He admitted it. A swindler can always spot another swindler. That bastard was definitely hiding something.
‘I’ll expose you. I’ll rip off your mask.’
And to do that, he had someone under his command more skilled than anyone else.
“Lee Chui!”
A masked figure revealed himself.
“Bring me proof that bastard’s a swindler—as fast as possible!”
“Yes, sir.”
Lee Chui was a specialist in tracking people and gathering intel—he was the most expensive asset under Geum Ajong’s command.
“Do not fail! I’ve had enough failure for one day.”
* * *
The carriage sped toward Shaanxi, where the main division of the Golden Dragon Family was located.
The two carriages traveled some distance apart. Inside hers, Geum Arin told Lim Hyuk, who was driving, not to worry even if Geom Mugeuk’s carriage didn’t follow closely behind.
Inside the other carriage, Geom Mugeuk reported to his father what he knew about the Golden Dragon Family. His father likely already had all this intel from the Heavenly Communication Pavilion, but this particular report was information received from Hidden Moon.
“There are three children of the Golden Dragon Family. The two we’ve met, Geum Ajong and Geum Arin, are the second and third. The eldest, Geum Ahyuk, is currently the leading candidate to succeed the family. If we had to assign numerical odds, we estimate it as: Geum Ahyuk sixty percent, Geum Ajong thirty percent, and Geum Arin ten percent.”
Geom Mugeuk had already grasped Geum Arin’s true intention.
“The real reason she brought us in this time is to use us in her struggle for succession. It’s a lost battle—but she’s still dreaming of a last-minute turnaround.”
Geom Mugeuk’s father, Geom Woojin, listened silently.
“When we arrive at the Golden Dragon Family, I plan to investigate the Family Head first. I believe he’s linked to forces behind the scenes.”
“And your reason?”
The reason… was Geum Arin.
“The money earned by the secret organization was funneled to those behind the scenes. But since the leader of that secret organization is the daughter of the Golden Dragon Family’s Family Head, there’s no doubt the Family Head himself sent the money.”
If the leader had been someone else, there might have been a slim chance that a member of the upper ranks had plotted it without the Family Head’s knowledge. But with Geum Arin involved, there was no mistaking the Family Head’s direct involvement.
“The question is how he’s connected. Is he completely under their command? Or just a sympathizer? He could also be under threat. Or perhaps he’s simply being deceived.”
There was also a concrete plan in mind.
“But now that they’ve paid us two million nyang, it’s disrupted their ability to make that payment. It’s a significant problem for them if they’re expected to deliver funds to those parties. That’s the point I plan to focus on. We may be able to infer the nature of his ties to them based on how the Family Head reacts.”
A glint of intrigue crossed Geom Woojin’s gaze.
“So you went that far and took the money with all this in mind?”
The gleam in Geom Mugeuk’s eyes already confirmed it.
Then Geom Woojin spoke.
“Do I even need to come along for this?”
He was asking if his help was even necessary, given how clearly his son had grasped the situation.
“There’s something we need to show them.”
“And that is?”
Geom Mugeuk answered calmly.
“That my father exists in this martial world.”
“...!”
Geom Woojin looked silently at his son, then turned his head toward the window of the moving carriage.
To his father, he added one more comment.
“Of course, I’m sure you’d prefer to announce yourself in a different way.”
That night, they stayed at an inn.
In the pre-dawn hours, while everyone was asleep, a man in a mask quietly revealed himself. He was none other than Lee Chui, sent by Geum Ajong.
Rather than heading toward the guest rooms where the people were sleeping, he slipped into the stables.
Not a single footstep was heard, not even when he opened the carriage door. One could’ve mistaken him for a thief—or even an assassin.
Lee Chui did not recklessly enter the guest rooms.
He began with the carriage.
After closely inspecting the passenger compartment inside, he moved to check the driver’s seat. It seemed any luggage had already been taken into the rooms—there was nothing of note.
Yet Lee Chui felt an unexplained sense of discomfort from this otherwise ordinary carriage.
‘Something’s not right.’
As he scanned the surroundings, he realized what that discomfort was.
‘The carriage is way too worn-out compared to the horses.’
The horses were top-tier, the kind any would call fine steeds—but the carriage was far too shabby.
Lee Chui slowly and carefully examined the carriage, tapping and checking different areas.
Eventually, he discovered that the outside of the carriage had been covered with thin plywood. It had been intentionally disguised to look worn-down.
With his dagger, he scraped at the edge of the plywood, prying it open slightly.
Through the gap, he could see there was a painting on the surface of the carriage.
He peered closer and saw what looked like a crescent moon.
“A crescent moon?”
He murmured softly to himself. Was there any sect in the martial world that used a crescent moon as a symbol?
If he removed a bit more of the paneling, he might be able to see more. But doing so would leave signs that it had been tampered with. He figured he’d need to get proper materials, remove the panel fully, and reattach it seamlessly.
As he leaned in again to get a better look at the image through the gap—
“!”
Lee Chui jumped in shock. It wasn’t the image that startled him.
Without a sound, someone had suddenly appeared beside him, also peering through the gap in the panel. It was none other than Geom Mugeuk.
“Looks more like a horn than a crescent moon, doesn’t it?”