Chapter 107: That Bastard’s Strange?
The bustling marketplace in broad daylight.
Jin Seong-un quietly trailed behind the man, keeping a fair distance.
‘Surely he isn’t thinking of abandoning the child.’
A bad thought crossed his mind.
Wasn’t the child still far too young?
Jin Seong-un, having grown up without the shelter of parents himself, knew well the weight of such a life.
This world was not one where such a bright, speechless child could survive.
‘Should I stop him?’
He hesitated for a moment.
If he dragged back someone who had already resolved to abandon their child, would that person truly care for the child?
Perhaps out of fear of others’ condemnation, the man might only pretend to keep the child for a while, then abandon him again in the next town.
It was a difficult problem to settle on.
Just as Jin Seong-un let out a faint sigh—
The man suddenly disappeared into an alley.
Jin Seong-un lightly pushed off the ground and leapt.
He landed atop a mill roof and looked down into the alley.
The man glanced about warily, then slipped into a small, shabby pawnshop.
‘Since when was there a place like that?’
He thought he knew every shop in Yichang, yet he hadn’t known of such a store tucked away in such a desolate alley.
Jin Seong-un dropped down in front of the pawnshop. Inside, a gaunt, white-haired old man sat dozing, fanning himself.
The man was nowhere to be seen. Yet his frame should have filled the tiny shop with ease.
Jin Seong-un spread out his senses.
‘There’s a passage inside.’
He strode forward. He walked straight across the shop, yet no sound nor sign of life stirred.
Passing the dozing old man, he pushed open a small door at the back, revealing a staircase leading down.
A stale odor drifted up from below, mixed with the scent of liquor. Above all, his sharp ears caught the murmur of voices.
Got it! I won, bastard!
Jin Seong-un immediately realized there was a gambling den below. Rats huddled together in a windowless room, throwing dice.
‘Leaving a child behind to come to a place like this?’
He descended the stairs.
A stocky, bald man squinted at him.
“Are you the innkeeper of Seong-un Inn?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Jin Seong-un nodded. The man gave him a surprised look.
“You come to a place like this?”
There was an odd hostility in his tone.
Strictly speaking, the man wasn’t Black Path. Just a thug, the kind found in any town.
To their eyes, a young man who mingled with orthodox Later-generation Prodigies and ran a fancy inn could never be seen favorably.
Jin Seong-un asked,
“What kind of place is this?”
“A place to play.”
“Ah.”
Feigning embarrassment, Jin Seong-un scratched his head.
The gatekeeper gave him a look that said, “If you know, then get lost.”
Jin Seong-un turned back.
He climbed the steps again.
One step, two steps.
And just before his third step—
Swaek—!
He suddenly struck, sealing the man’s acupoint.
The bald man would not have even seen Jin Seong-un’s New Form move.
When he woke half a shichen later, he would feel inexplicably refreshed.
Jin Seong-un then pushed open the door the man had been blocking and slipped inside, deliberately suppressing his presence as he moved to a corner.
The interior was larger than expected.
Several tables stood, and gambling of all sorts played out upon them.
Some wept, others laughed, some rejoiced, others raged. Money passed across the tables in amounts far from small.
Jin Seong-un strolled slowly along the wall, observing them.
Even when he brushed past their shoulders, no one looked at him. He had hidden his presence completely, and their eyes were locked on the gambling.
‘There he is.’
Amid the crowd, spotting the man was simple. He alone had not lost focus in his eyes.
With a calm expression, he gambled.
From his hand motions and composure, it was clear he had played many times before.
Time passed.
The man began losing money. Not vast sums, but his money pouch beside him sagged limply.
With what remained inside, he could pay no more than a day or two’s lodging.
‘They’re cheating him.’
Those across from him.
They weren’t strong, but they had trained in martial arts. Not enough to hide it from Jin Seong-un’s eyes, though.
The man likely saw it too. So why was he letting it happen?
As this question passed his mind, the man’s gaze suddenly sharpened. He shoved the entire pouch onto the table.
“All in.”
That was when things changed.
The man began winning hand after hand.
Their tricks no longer worked against him. Naturally—his martial perception was sharper.
When his pouch overflowed with coins, the man snatched it up and declared,
“That’s enough for today.”
“What, what!”
The gamblers raged, glaring at him as if he were a mortal enemy.
It wasn’t the wrath of martial artists, but a purer madness—rabid anger.
Most men would flinch at such eyes, but…
“My wife will kill me if I’m late again.”
The man grinned and turned to leave.
As he strode toward the exit, the gamblers exchanged looks. Soon, they approached and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Hey.”
“What is it?”
The man’s reply was curt.
The gamblers spoke,
“One last game. Over there.”
They pointed to a door at the far corner, likely the office managing this den.
“Let’s make it big. Just one real match.”
Their tone was sly. The man pretended to hesitate, then followed them.
Their intent was obvious—ambush him, beat him down, and take his money. Cheats from the start, it was to be expected.
Jin Seong-un leaned against the wall, waiting. No need to follow—he only had to extend his senses.
You bastard!
K-kill him!
The fight had begun.
The thick door muffled the sound, drowned quickly beneath the den’s frenzy.
Crashes, smashes, thuds. Then the man emerged, shaking blood from his fist.
He now carried three money pouches.
He walked straight across the den and out.
Jin Seong-un glanced into the office.
‘He held nothing back.’
The gamblers looked like dough Seo Yu-gyeom had kneaded too harshly.
They would be bedridden, needing others to feed them for quite a while.
Briefly mourning the loss of potential customers, Jin Seong-un slipped out as well.
* * *
The man returned to the inn.
Naturally, Jin Seong-un was already back, tending to work as if nothing had happened.
When he saw him, Jin Seong-un asked—
“The child has already eaten. He ate well.”
“Thank you.”
The man’s tone had softened considerably compared to the first day. Nodding, he went into his room.
Time passed.
The two emerged, freshly washed and even in new clothes.
‘So he spent that money on clothes.’
Soon, the man and the child settled into a corner.
The man lightly raised his hand to call Jin Seong-un over.
“Bring a plate of Sweet and Sour Pork and a bottle of Bamboo Leaf Green. Also some noodles and dumplings.”
“Seems you’re well off today.”
“Don’t say pointless things.”
“Ah, yes.”
Nodding, Jin Seong-un relayed the order to the kitchen and added,
“Make it with care. The child will be eating too.”
“I always make everything with care.”
Seo Yu-gyeom replied firmly.
Jin Seong-un nodded in reassurance.
When the food arrived, the child’s eyes sparkled brightly.
It was a dish of fried pork, glazed in a sweet, glossy sauce, stir-fried with vegetables that gave it vibrant color. No wonder the child’s eyes shone.
As Jin Seong-un turned to leave, the man spoke.
“Here, this is fifteen days’ room fee.”
He handed over a money pouch.
Jin Seong-un looked at it with some reluctance before accepting it.
The man continued,
“I noticed you gave the child dumplings instead of noodles when I wasn’t around. Thank you for the care.”
It seemed the smell had lingered in the room.
After asking Seomun Ak through Voice Transmission to air the room out, Jin Seong-un said to the man,
“Children should eat well at that age.”
“Indeed.”
The man stared at Jin Seong-un, then suddenly asked,
“By the way. What kind of inn is this, that has names like Wudang Sect and Namgung Clan hanging out front?”
“I have personal ties.”
“Ah, I see.”
The man flinched briefly, then nodded.
He studied Jin Seong-un with a gaze so blatant it was uncomfortable, but Jin Seong-un did not avoid it.
Eventually, the man carried on eating with the child as if it were nothing.
‘Doesn’t he know me?’
Not out of arrogance, but the Guest Dragon’s reputation had spread as far as Qinghai. It was strange this man didn’t seem to know.
Perhaps he was from the countryside? Or a bandit?
As such thoughts crossed his mind, the man suddenly spoke unexpectedly.
“Seems business is winding down. Let’s have a drink together. With the chef and the other waiter too.”
Though surprising, Jin Seong-un nodded. Perhaps he could hear the man’s story.
.
.
.
Around a table sat Jin Seong-un, Seo Yu-gyeom, Seomun Ak, the man, and the child.
Even with strangers present, the child cheerfully devoured the Sweet and Sour Pork.
Seeing this, Seo Yu-gyeom brought a few more pieces of fried pork.
The man then spoke.
“I know you’ve looked after us since the first day. Always giving this kid little extras.”
“The child’s simply too cute.”
Jin Seong-un replied calmly.
Seomun Ak asked,
“Is he your son?”
The tone was not that of a waiter, making the man flinch. But having drunk quite a bit, he nodded.
“A friend’s son.”
“No wonder you don’t look alike. The kid’s too pretty.”
“……”
The man shut his mouth, baffled.
Seo Yu-gyeom nodded and added,
“I almost reported you, thought you were a kidnapper.”
“……”
The man coughed awkwardly.
Compared to the first day, his hostility and wariness were gone.
Just as Jin Seong-un had observed him for days, the man too had judged the inn’s people and deemed them trustworthy.
They went on with idle chatter—about daily life, about Murim, about rumors, even first loves.
No one asked why the child could not speak.
The child dozed off, and the man held him in his arms.
Then Jin Seong-un said,
“Let’s call it a night. We’ve business tomorrow, and the child should sleep comfortably.”
All nodded.
The man carried the child into their room. As he left, Seomun Ak and Seo Yu-gyeom’s mood shifted.
“Hey, that bastard’s suspicious.”
“He’s either a bandit or a pirate. Did you see the calluses on his hands? That’s from heavy single-edged weapons like sabers or axes.”
The two shared their analysis, having observed him throughout.
Seo Yu-gyeom in particular even inferred his origins, thanks to his assassin’s experience and insight.
“For now, let’s just watch a few more days.”
At Jin Seong-un’s words, both nodded. They too judged that the man was not one to commit evil immediately.
.
.
.
Late at night.
Jin Seong-un stood on the roof of Seong-un Inn, gazing down.
He sensed presences.
Three sturdy middle-aged men loitered at the entrance.
They scratched their heads, sighing uneasily.
What held them back from entering were the congratulatory banners of great orthodox clans, sects, and the Murim Alliance hanging on the outer wall.
“Hyung-nim, can’t we just rush in, grab the kid, and run?”
“Are you crazy? It says Sichuan Tang Clan. Don’t you know what happens if they flip?”
“But still—”
“And the Murim Alliance? You want to risk the entire Shui Band’s fate for one kid? Why did that bastard Jang Gwang have to pick this inn?”
After much hesitation, they sighed and left.
Jin Seong-un learned two things.
The man’s name was Jang Gwang.
And he was being hunted by water bandits.
Not just any bandits, but the Yangtze River Eighteen Strongholds, a faction rivaling the Green Forest within the Unorthodox Path.
‘So he’s from the water bandits.’
Jin Seong-un went back into the inn.
He checked each room to ensure all guests slept safely.
Finally, he stopped before the door of Jang Gwang and the child. He made no effort to hide his presence. From inside came the faint sound of a blade.
Srrng—!
The man was tense inside.
Jin Seong-un spoke.
“Are you asleep?”
He heard a hurried sound of a blade being hidden. After a pause, the man’s voice came.
“Ahem, not yet. What is it?”
“I have something to ask.”
Jang Gwang soon opened the door.
Jin Seong-un stared at him and asked,
“Are you from the Shui Band?”