Chapter 5: I Should Receive Something Else Instead
Head Constable of Yichang’s government office, Hwang Myeong-seok.
He often visited the Prosperity Association.
The pretext was a meeting for the prosperity and stability of the local marketplace.
However, the fact that the head constable himself went to visit instead of the Prosperity Association’s chairman, who claimed to be a merchant, was enough for anyone to guess the relationship between the two men.
Chairman’s office of the Yichang Prosperity Association.
Head Constable Hwang stood before the door with a rare look of tension on his face.
“Chairman, Head Constable Hwang is here.”
As the attendant announced, the door suddenly opened.
A rather luxurious-looking office came into view.
The man sitting at the desk looked at the head constable’s face for a moment before rising from his seat with a bright expression to greet him.
“My apologies, Head Constable. I should have visited you in person.”
“Haha, no. I am well aware of how very busy you are with both public and private affairs.”
“As expected, no one appreciates my efforts like you do, Head Constable Hwang.”
When the chairman gestured toward the chair opposite, Head Constable Hwang obediently sat down.
However, the chairman did not immediately sit in his seat but instead walked over to where the head constable stood.
More precisely, to the two young men who had come with him.
They had been sent to handle a simple matter, only to be beaten badly by some fellow and dragged back to the government office—pathetic.
“Let’s hear your excuses first.”
His voice was drastically different from when he spoke to the head constable.
The two men trembled, unable even to meet the chairman’s eyes.
“Why so silent? Have you nothing to say in your defense?”
They couldn’t bring themselves to speak.
How could they say they were defeated by a mere inn waiter?
But they had to say something—if they knew the chairman’s nature.
Smack—!
With a single palm strike from the chairman, the two men’s heads burst open at the same time.
Blood and flesh splattered onto the floor.
Seeing the gruesome scene unfold right behind him, Head Constable Hwang’s legs trembled as he sat.
Tap.
The chairman placed a hand on the head constable’s shoulder.
Hwang flinched hard.
“My apologies, Head Constable. My useless subordinates dared to trouble you.”
“N-no, not at all! Between us, there’s no need for such—”
The chairman gave a faint smile and took his seat.
At his nod toward the corpses, the attendants quickly entered to remove the bodies.
Swish, swish—the sound of the heavy corpses being dragged across the wooden floor reached the head constable’s ears like a chilling threat.
After wetting his throat with cooled tea, the chairman spoke in a sighing tone.
“So then, who is the fellow who dared to trouble our Head Constable?”
Head Constable Hwang pulled a document from his breast.
It contained the results of an investigation by the government office into the Seong-un Inn and its waiter.
After reading it briefly, the chairman let out a chuckle.
“A strange fellow indeed.”
“I had assumed he was an expert from another region.”
“Yes, it’s understandable to make such a mistake.”
The chairman then took out a thick payment slip and pushed it toward the head constable.
It was always like this.
The head constable lent the authority of the government office, and the chairman, under the name of goodwill, handed over money.
“Heh, we’ve known each other far too long for you to be preparing such things.”
“It’s simply my thanks on behalf of the merchants for all you do for Yichang.”
Head Constable Hwang’s faint smile returned.
Seeing the money washed away any fear he’d felt.
There was truly no medicine better than money in this world.
“By the way, Chairman… that waiter fellow—could he perhaps be from the Hao Sect?”
It was a reasonable suspicion.
From the captured martial artists, they had learned that the waiter had displayed martial arts.
A strong waiter? Outside of the Hao Sect, such a thing was unheard of.
However, the chairman firmly shook his head.
“No. Unless the Guild Leader of the Hao Sect has gone senile, he wouldn’t dare infringe upon my territory.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true.”
Head Constable Hwang nodded.
The chairman himself was an impressive martial artist for his young age. Still, compared to the power of the Hao Sect, he posed little threat.
However, it was known that the chairman’s father had once wielded great influence within the Black Path.
Why would the Hao Sect bother making them enemies?
“If the fellow happens to show up again, please don’t just send him back—have him arrested.”
“Hm… but there’s no pretext for that.”
It wasn’t a suggestion he liked.
He now knew that the waiter had trained in martial arts—how could they possibly hold him?
“What do you mean by that?”
The chairman’s voice turned openly cold. Head Constable Hwang immediately realized his mistake.
"The Prosperity Association is an organization for the stability and prosperity of Yichang. Are you telling me we cannot arrest the man who crippled an innocent person belonging to such an organization?"
"…R-right. I wasn’t thinking clearly."
"Good. I’ll be counting on you."
The chairman nodded as he spoke.
This time, there was no trace of a smile on his face.
Jin Seong-un stood with his hand resting on his hip, gazing at the signboard.
Just seeing the words “Seong-un Inn” put him in a rather good mood.
He had bought the signboard with bounty money, repaired the broken back door and dining tables, and cleared the weeds that had grown wildly in the empty lot.
Even after that, he still had money and time left.
"If there’s one problem…"
It was the alcohol.
An inn had to sell liquor.
But in this region, there was no way to obtain it without going through the Prosperity Association.
Jin Seong-un was the inn’s waiter and owner, not a merchant who traveled between regions for large-scale trade.
The local merchants had only two choices.
Leave, or curry favor with the Prosperity Association and renegotiate the liquor price later.
Of course, even if they renegotiated, it would still be far harsher than doing business in another region.
Yet most merchants didn’t leave.
Because they feared retaliation.
—There’s a rumor that a whole family, who tried to flee in the middle of the night, was massacred by the Prosperity Association.
Those were the very discreet words of No Sang-won.
Whether it was true or a rumor the Prosperity Association spread on purpose, it was enough to terrify merchants.
They controlled the market completely through fear.
Anyone who resisted or refused their “suggestions” — which were really orders in disguise — would inevitably face revenge.
"Hmm."
Jin Seong-un smacked his lips.
He didn’t feel particularly afraid.
But it was certainly bothersome.
Thankfully, there was no urgent need yet.
First, he hadn’t hired a tavern keeper, and second, if they came for revenge, it would be like bounty money walking right in — which suited him just fine.
Feeling a bit hungry, Jin Seong-un looked toward the kitchen.
He knew all too well what his own noodles tasted like.
"I’ll have to go out to eat."
An innkeeper who couldn’t cook for himself — that was rare indeed.
After stepping outside, Jin Seong-un filled his stomach with gukbap, then strolled through the marketplace for a bit.
It was a lively commercial district in its own way.
If only the Prosperity Association vanished, it would be a far better sight.
Occasionally, he spotted men trained in martial arts.
Most of them were likely the Prosperity Association’s martial artists.
‘I need to check the extent of their power firsthand.’
While thinking that, his eyes happened to land on a smithy.
Since he had learned the sword from the Sword Immortal, shouldn’t he at least own one?
As if drawn in, Jin Seong-un entered the smithy.
Kang, kang—!
The cheerful sound of metal clashing rang out.
The air was quite hot thanks to the endlessly burning flames.
The old man hammering steel glanced at Jin Seong-un, then jerked his chin toward one side.
Following his gaze, Jin Seong-un saw farming tools and kitchen knives.
He looked down at himself. Since he’d been cleaning earlier, he still had an apron on.
He looked exactly like a waiter.
Of course, Jin Seong-un thought of himself more as a waiter than a martial artist, so it wasn’t much of an issue.
"Do you have any swords?"
There was no answer.
His voice had been drowned out by the sound of hammering.
He stepped a little closer and asked again.
This time, the old man slightly furrowed his brows.
"A sword? What for?"
"To swing it."
An obvious answer.
The old man stared at him with a strange look, then pointed to the inside.
When Jin Seong-un stepped in, he saw various blades leaning against one wall.
"I’ll have a look around."
Again, his voice was lost to the noise.
Feeling awkward, Jin Seong-un picked up a sword.
Immediately, a certain energy ran along his fingertips — more precisely, a will of the sword.
It was the effect of the swordsmanship he had learned from the Sword Immortal.
The more renowned a sword was, the stronger and clearer its will would feel.
But every sword in the smithy had a faint will.
It was a shame to say, but none of them caught his interest.
While he was frowning in thought—
"If you’re not going to buy, don’t just fiddle with them."
The old man had approached without him noticing and spoke curtly.
It seemed he had taken offense at the way Jin Seong-un was judging all his swords unfavorably — especially since, judging by his appearance, he thought Jin Seong-un was just a waiter.
Jin Seong-un looked at him.
He could understand the prickly reaction.
He too would feel hurt if someone spat out his noodles right in front of him, even knowing they tasted bad.
"My apologies. I don’t know much about swords."
When Jin Seong-un offered a calm apology, the old man seemed to relax slightly.
"Ahem. Looks like you’re just trying to practice. Just buy the cheapest one. It’s not like you’re going to train that seriously."
He must have assumed Jin Seong-un only wanted one for self-defense.
As Jin Seong-un gave a vague nod and continued looking over the swords—
A voice, far more domineering than the old man’s, rang out.
"Old man, why do you insult people to their face? If you ask me, the real problem is that fellow knows swords too well."
The old man flinched and turned around in surprise.
Jin Seong-un, having already sensed the man’s presence through his perception, calmly turned his head.
He looked to be around forty.
A man with a sturdy build, dressed entirely in black, exuded a dangerous air.
He spoke to Jin Seong-un.
"This smithy only has trash for blades anyway. You’ve got a good eye, I see."
The old man bit his lip slightly.
But unlike with Jin Seong-un, he couldn’t utter a single word.
Jin Seong-un stared at the man.
Still, to call something trash right to someone’s face…
If someone called his noodles trash, he wouldn’t be able to sleep from sheer frustration that night.
"That’s a bit harsh."
Jin Seong-un questioned him with the empathy of a fellow creator.
The middle-aged man just grinned.
"Old man, am I wrong?"
"…No, Master."
"Every sword you’ve made is nothing but trash, isn’t that so?"
"…Yes, Master, you are correct."
The old man lowered his head to a man who looked twenty years younger than him.
Jin Seong-un clearly saw the old man’s cheeks trembling.
Anger, or fear.
Perhaps a mix of both.
Regardless, the man gave a small chuckle and turned to Jin Seong-un.
"Looks like you’re in need of a sword. How about this one?"
He untied the sword at his waist and handed it over. Its pitch-black blade, like ink, left a strong impression.
Jin Seong-un accepted it.
At that very moment, he felt the sword’s will distinctly.
Killing intent — an overwhelming desire to take a life was embedded within the blade.
Jin Seong-un nodded.
"A fine sword."
Considering that swords were made to harm people in the first place, it wasn’t a bad sword.
A sword’s fate simply changed depending on whose hands held it.
When Jin Seong-un gave his honest praise, the man smiled with satisfaction.
It was clearly a bright smile, yet for some reason, it was the kind you didn’t want to return.
"I told you, you’ve got a good eye. Now, watch."
The man picked up one of the smithy’s iron swords.
Without warning, he swung it wide in a horizontal slash.
Whoosh—!
A sudden surge of force.
Jin Seong-un simply tilted his head slightly back.
The sword slash grazed dangerously close to his eyelashes.
Had he not moved, he would have lost both eyes.
Whoosh—!
Another slash followed, this time aimed at the old man.
The old man didn’t even realize a sword was bearing down on him.
The man’s shallow trick was plain as day.
So here was the real trash.
Letting out a small sigh, Jin Seong-un swung his sword.
Klang—!
The iron sword in the man’s hand split cleanly in two.
To be precise, it parted smoothly with a sharp edge.
It showed just how sharp the sword the man had given him was — and proved how poor the smithy’s swords were.
A flicker of interest passed through the man’s eyes.
"Well? Compared to the Black High Sword you’re holding, isn’t the smithy’s iron sword nothing but trash?"
"That’s an unnecessarily grand name."
"Hahaha! It’s also a sword befitting a straightforward man like you. If you want it, I’ll give it to you."
The man openly showed favor toward Jin Seong-un. It was a twisted sort of favor that would offend anyone else.
"They say nothing in this world is free."
"Indeed, you speak only the truth. Naturally, you’ll have to give me something in return. That’s the way of the world."
"And what would that be?"
Jin Seong-un asked casually.
The man liked him all the more for it.
He had deliberately escalated the situation, yet this fellow wasn’t tense in the slightest, not even blinking.
Youth, formidable skill, and bold composure.
Now he understood why the chairman wanted him.
"What I want… is you."
Jin Seong-un frowned, as if he’d just heard something he didn’t want to.
The man laughed loudly and tossed aside the broken sword.
"Not like that, so don’t get the wrong idea. My introduction is late — I am Gam Ji-deok, Vice Chairman of the Yichang Prosperity Association."
Jin Seong-un had more or less expected it.
And at the same time, he realized something as he looked at the man.
Ah, I’ve gone beyond first-class.
The opponent’s martial prowess was clearly at the peak of first-class. If they were to cross swords…
Jin Seong-un nodded calmly and said,
"Instead of the sword, I’ll be taking something else."