Chapter 4: He’s Not an Ordinary Waiter
The owner of Sangwon Cloth Shop, No Sang-won.
With his large build, he was grunting as he climbed over the wall of Seong-un Inn.
He had only meant to bring over a bowl of noodles.
However, the door was locked.
When he asked the nearby merchants, they told him that the Prosperity Association thugs had gone into the inn and had yet to come out.
He wrestled with the biggest dilemma of his life.
The inn’s Ghost was scary, and the Prosperity Association thugs were scary too.
But he was fond of young Jin Seong-un, who had worked diligently from a young age to open the inn.
Though his skills were poor, it was commendable that he had even cooked the noodles himself.
Above all, the boy was so good-looking that he reminded No Sang-won of his younger self.
Yes, he had been doing business here for twenty years and knew the Prosperity Association thugs by face. Surely, they wouldn’t start swinging their swords at him.
With that resolve, No Sang-won finally climbed over the wall.
Grass had grown thick in the neglected yard.
Pushing through it, he placed his hand on the wall of a small storage shed to catch his breath.
“This inn had a storage shed like this, huh.”
After gazing at the shed for a moment, No Sang-won hurried his steps again.
With his mind somewhat steeled—
Just as he was about to open the door leading to the inn—
Crash!
The wooden door shattered completely.
Something flew out and crashed into No Sang-won.
He fell flat on his back, his vision spinning.
“Ah! I’m going to die!”
A cold sensation pressed against his rounded belly.
Struggling to look down, he saw a Prosperity Association martial artist sprawled over him, gripping a broken sword in half.
Utterly shocked, No Sang-won twisted frantically to shove the man off to the side.
“W-What is this…?”
Had something already happened?
No Sang-won quickly hurried into the inn.
And there, he saw an even more shocking sight.
A familiar Prosperity Association martial artist—
He was the sort who swaggered around the commercial district to collect protection fees for the Association.
That man was standing face-to-face with the waiter.
Jin Seong-un’s expression was calm.
On the other hand, the Prosperity Association martial artist was trembling so visibly that even martial arts-ignorant No Sang-won could see it.
The thug was aiming a menacingly sharp sword at Jin Seong-un.
“H-Hey! Wait a second! What are you doing threatening a young fellow like that? Let’s just talk first—”
No Sang-won hastily approached the martial artist.
There was one thing he failed to grasp—
The martial artist was in a state of extreme excitement and tension.
Like a prey animal panicking in front of a predator, he suddenly lunged at No Sang-won with his sword.
“Ugh!”
The pitch-black straight sword shot for the space between his brows.
No Sang-won was so shocked that he squeezed his eyes shut.
“….”
A brief silence.
No Sang-won cautiously opened his eyes.
Jin Seong-un was gripping the blade with his bare hand. His signature dry and cold face was fixed on the martial artist.
“You really swing your sword at anyone, don’t you.”
Jin Seong-un clicked his tongue as he spoke.
Suddenly, he channeled the Women’s Moon Heart Method, applying strength to his hand. The blade snapped clean in two.
Jin Seong-un immediately jammed the broken blade into the martial artist’s shoulder.
Thud!
“Argh!”
Naturally timid, No Sang-won flinched hard.
The martial artist clutched his shoulder and staggered back.
But even faster—
Jin Seong-un stepped forward and struck his solar plexus and chin in quick succession.
Thwack!
The man’s head snapped back violently.
In the next instant, his body collapsed backward.
Boom!
Silence followed.
Jin Seong-un tossed the broken blade carelessly to the floor and approached the man.
“H-Hey. What are you trying to do now?”
No Sang-won asked cautiously.
His tone had subtly changed from when he used to treat him as nothing more than the waiter next door.
Jin Seong-un answered nonchalantly.
“They broke my signboard and my table. Ah, and now the back door too. I’m going to collect payment.”
Jin Seong-un searched the men’s clothing, taking anything that could be of value, then shattered their qi centers one by one.
It didn’t endanger their lives, but their lives as martial artists were over. And all of it was done by a mere waiter at an isolated inn.
Only after collecting what he wanted did Jin Seong-un finally ask,
“Why did you bother climbing over the wall?”
“W-Well, the door was locked, so…”
“Ah, right. I’m not blaming you, I was just asking.”
Jin Seong-un opened the door again.
A cool breeze rushed into the inn, sweeping away the stuffy stench of the men.
“So, do you know who these men are?”
“Yes, more or less. They’re from the Prosperity Association, I hear.”
“This isn’t your average Prosperity Association.”
“I’m not your average waiter either.”
Jin Seong-un shrugged.
“I’ve got a general idea about them. The way they act is exactly like the Black Path.”
“Huh, and you still… How do you plan to deal with the consequences?”
No Sang-won was genuinely worried. He didn’t want to see a promising young man’s future put in danger.
At that question about consequences, Jin Seong-un glanced toward the small storage shed where the Martial Gods were.
“I’ll manage somehow.”
He felt no fear.
He had survived alone in the world before. Now that he had reliable people by his side, what was there to be afraid of?
With that thought, Jin Seong-un suddenly began dragging the two men outside.
Startled, No Sang-won hurried after him.
“Where are you going?”
“To the magistrate’s office.”
“…Why?”
“They’re practically Black Path scum, so I thought there might be a bounty on them. I spent most of what I had to open the inn, so I’ve been worried about money. This is perfect.”
No Sang-won was too dumbfounded to speak.
Now he could see—this brazen and terrifying waiter was simply a person who thought in a completely different way from him.
“Must be because you’re a martial artist.”
“I’m a waiter.”
“…Right. A waiter.”
No Sang-won forced himself to nod.
Jin Seong-un headed straight for the magistrate’s office.
When a young man showed up dragging two grown men, it caused quite a stir.
“Wh-Who are you?”
Even for a waiter, Jin Seong-un’s appearance was unusual. And now, holding two grown men in his hands, the gatekeepers automatically spoke to him with respect.
“I brought you some Black Path thugs.”
“Ah…”
The gatekeepers exchanged glances, and one of them quickly went inside.
The one who stayed behind asked cautiously,
“Could these men be…?”
“Yes. They said they were from the Prosperity Association.”
The gatekeeper’s face paled.
Jin Seong-un noticed instantly.
After some time, the gatekeeper who had gone in returned in a hurry and led Jin Seong-un inside.
The magistrate’s office in Yichang.
Head Constable Hwang Myeong-seok looked at the two collapsed Prosperity Association martial artists with a complicated expression.
Jin Seong-un did not miss a single change in Hwang’s expression, breathing, or even heartbeat.
Ever since he had learned martial arts, the range of what he could see and hear had expanded greatly.
It was no exaggeration to say it was like a whole new world.
‘An accomplice?’
Thinking that, Jin Seong-un was about to ask if there was a bounty on them, but then changed his mind.
If they were in league, he wouldn’t give an honest answer.
“How many nyang for each?”
Jin Seong-un went straight to the point, speaking in a casual tone.
Hwang Myeong-seok’s eyes widened.
His mind worked quickly.
A young martial artist who had dared to beat Prosperity Association men into this state.
A man who had the audacity to speak casually to the head constable in the magistrate’s office.
His martial ability was impossible to gauge.
Putting all the pieces together, Hwang reached a single conclusion.
‘A master from another region!’
He could even be the child of a prestigious martial clan traveling the jianghu.
No matter the “law enforcement immunity” for officials, offending such a person would be disastrous.
Prestigious martial clans had close ties with high-ranking officials far above a mere head constable.
“One of them is worth ten nyang, the other three nyang!”
“Gold?”
“….”
It seemed to be silver.
Jin Seong-un’s disappointment was obvious.
Even such a small change in expression made sweat bead on Hwang Myeong-seok’s forehead.
“Then please bring it to me.”
“Y-Yes, of course.”
At his order, a constable brought a wallet containing thirteen silver nyang.
Since it was still a decent sum, Jin Seong-un pocketed it with satisfaction.
Just as he was about to leave, Hwang asked in a cautious tone,
“May I ask the honored hero’s name?”
Jin Seong-un stared at him for a moment. Hwang began to regret asking.
“Jin Seong-un.”
“Oh, what a fine name! If it’s not too much trouble, may I ask your sect?”
“I have no sect. I’m the owner and waiter of a nearby inn.”
“Oh, I see. A nearby inn…”
Hwang blinked slowly.
Regardless, Jin Seong-un simply gave a polite bow and left.
Watching his departing back, Hwang turned to the subordinate beside him.
“Did he say he was a waiter?”
“Technically, he said owner and waiter.”
“….”
He was still a man who had risen to the rank of head constable.
Even in his fluster, his mind worked quickly to one conclusion.
“How dare he!”
It was obvious—Prosperity Association martial artists had picked a fight without realizing the man was an outsider expert, and got completely beaten down.
The expert had left without a care, and the nosy little waiter who had been watching dragged them in and walked away with the bounty money.
That was how waiters were. If money was involved, they’d babble other people’s secrets without hesitation.
The thought that this waiter could actually be an expert never even followed. That idea was far more unrealistic.
Jin Seong-un returned to the inn in good spirits.
No Sang-won was cleaning up the wreckage of the broken back door and table, and wiping away the bloodstains on the floor.
“I’ll do it.”
Jin Seong-un quickly took the rag from him.
Then No Sang-won asked in a voice laced with a sigh,
“Were you a martial artist?”
“No, a waiter…”
“I mean, have you learned martial arts?”
“Yes, somehow.”
Somehow.
There was no better way to sum up Jin Seong-un’s circumstances.
No Sang-won’s expression grew more serious.
“I won’t pry into your past—everyone has their own story. But… just how strong are you?”
Jin Seong-un hesitated.
Aside from the Martial Gods, the only people he had fought were two second-rate martial artists.
So he could only answer like this,
“I’m above second-rate.”
“….”
No Sang-won’s worry deepened further.
Even as a non-martial artist, he knew the second-rate level was not particularly high.
“You should leave here quickly.”
“Why?”
“The men you took down were the lowest rank in the Prosperity Association. That group is far bigger than you think. I’ve heard they’re on par with most murim sects.”
The Prosperity Association would surely retaliate.
No Sang-won was truly worried that the young man might meet with great harm.
Jin Seong-un shrugged.
“I can’t leave.”
It was because the Martial Gods he considered his masters were right here, and because his life’s longest-standing goal had been to open this inn.
No Sang-won beat his chest in frustration.
“I understand your feelings. I’m a merchant too. But what’s worth more than your life? Why in the world did you provoke them?”
“They started the fight.”
As he said that, Jin Seong-un pointed to the broken signboard.
No Sang-won understood instantly, having once had the name of the Sangwon Cloth Shop taken away for a time.
“Even so…”
“Also, my masters—the ones who taught me martial arts—were people who leaned toward the White Path.”
The Sword Immortal, the Merchant King, and Noble Enchantress were certainly White Path. Divine Thief was somewhere between orthodox and unorthodox.
Lastly, the Blood Demon…
Jin Seong-un clicked his tongue.
Well, three out of five still counted as mostly White Path.
“They taught me much more than martial arts. They said never to tolerate those who point blades and radiate killing intent, and especially to show no mercy toward those who walk the Unorthodox Path or Demonic Path.”
That was why he had destroyed their qi centers.
He had briefly considered taking their lives, but without knowing the full extent of the Prosperity Association’s power, that would have been reckless.
“…I see. A master is like a father, so I understand why you’d follow their words.”
No Sang-won let out a deep sigh.
His feelings were complicated—he worried for Jin Seong-un, his heart raced from the sight of blood, and though it felt cowardly, he was honestly afraid he might get caught up in trouble simply for being a neighbor.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
No Sang-won sighed with an “Oh dear.”
How could he think of eating right now?
“You probably didn’t get to eat the noodles I made for you.”
“…So you do know.”
People were fickle.
Even those tasteless noodles, now that he thought of them, made him a little hungry again.
That was just how big No Sang-won’s appetite was.
“If it’s noodles again, I’ll pass.”
Jin Seong-un shook the wallet he had gotten from the bounty.
“Let’s eat out. Anyway, you still climbed over the wall for me, even though you’re so timid. Let me treat you.”
Truthfully, Jin Seong-un was in a rare good mood.
He had lived his whole life alone.
He had achieved his goal of opening an inn, met reliable masters in the Martial Gods, learned martial arts, gained money, and even had a kind-hearted neighbor—albeit a bit grumbly.
“Let’s go.”
When Jin Seong-un spoke again with a faint smile—a rare sight—No Sang-won finally nodded.
Yes, in the end, all of this was just for the sake of living.