Chapter 84: Hand It Over
‘Did she find out something?’
Jin Seong-un calmly received Elder Byeok’s gaze. She kept hesitating, as if unsure of what exactly she wanted to say.
“Please, go ahead.”
“……You must have heard the rumors.”
“Yes, somewhat.”
The rumor that Elder Byeok had been defeated by a thief.
Her face flushed red, as if that fact was unbearably shameful.
Then, as if making up her mind, she spoke.
“……Lower it a little.”
“……”
Jin Seong-un blinked, dumbfounded.
He never intended to charge three hundred nyang to begin with.
Well, if the elders insisted on confirming it, then he would have had no choice but to collect it. But most likely, they had already forgotten about it by now.
“I fought that bastard yesterday. He’s insane.”
The insane bastard let out a hollow cough.
Elder Byeok continued.
“Originally, I intended to capture the thief and use the bounty on his head to pay. The reward was quite considerable, and it has risen even further due to recent incidents.”
“……Is that so.”
“But after fighting him yesterday, I understood. That man is a master who has reversed aging. I don’t know why such an old master would stoop to petty theft, but at least, he is not someone I can deal with.”
“How can you be certain he is a master who has reversed aging? Normally, thieves wear masks, so you wouldn’t even see their face.”
Jin Seong-un flinched slightly as he asked.
Elder Byeok then spoke with a triumphant expression.
“Not a single wrinkle on his hands.”
Just then, from the kitchen, Seo Yu-gyeom’s voice rang out.
“Jin Seong-un! Come help me with this!”
Relieved, Jin Seong-un hurriedly moved toward the kitchen before Elder Byeok could check his hands, saying:
“I really don’t need to be paid.”
“Is that so?”
Elder Byeok looked puzzled.
She hadn’t expected the matter to be resolved so easily.
.
.
.
When Jin Seong-un entered the kitchen, he asked:
“What do you need help with?”
“Ah, it’s already solved.”
Seo Yu-gyeom smirked as he replied.
Jin Seong-un gave him a strange look, then simply nodded and left the kitchen.
Seo Yu-gyeom stared closely at his retreating back, then once again let out a faint, strange laugh.
‘Even if no one else notices, do you really think I wouldn’t?’
It was a sort of occupational hazard.
To observe and remember all of a person’s physical traits.
A small tavern in Yichang.
To be precise, on its roof.
“How in the world did he steal it?”
He had been locked in an ongoing rivalry with the fake thief lately.
Whenever he stole something, the other would, as if provoking him, steal something even more difficult.
The problem was, even though he tried to chase him down every night, he could never catch him.
Always the one who had run away until now, for the first time in his life he felt how hopeless it was to be the pursuer.
The real issue was the thing stolen yesterday.
A stele so massive and heavy that it would take over a dozen strong men just to barely move it.
He had sat on this roof all day, trying to imagine how it could have been done, but no method came to mind.
‘One thing’s certain, he’s definitely a martial artist……’
They said he even beat down an elder of the Beggars’ Union.
And there was an even subtler rumor—that even the Young Master of the Tang Clan had suffered defeat at his hands.
A heinous thief.
He himself would never handle matters that way. He never hurt anyone, and avoided clashes whenever possible.
Of course, part of it was because, aside from movement arts and stealth, his martial ability was weak……
‘Hurting people is wrong. That’s not a thief—that’s just a bad guy!’
It seemed he had never even considered the thought that thievery itself was wrong.
Below the roof, several prodigies roamed the streets.
But most of them had completely lost their fighting spirit. They just wandered aimlessly, as if reluctant to stay inside their rooms, but lacking motivation.
‘I’ll show you.’
Just how far a thief could go.
Though his martial ability was too low to steal something as large and heavy as a stele, he had the confidence to steal things so well hidden that others couldn’t even imagine.
Suddenly, he opened up a bundle.
Inside were slips of paper, each bearing the words “Justice.”
The reason he chose that word was simple. It wasn’t because of some grand ideology or dream of revolution.
It just looked cool.
That was enough.
Abruptly, he hurled the bundle high into the air.
The martial artists wandering the street with blank eyes tilted their heads back.
“What’s that?”
They blinked in confusion.
Something was floating high in the sky, but the night was so dark it was hard to make out.
It didn’t take long to recognize it.
Paang–!
In midair, the bundle burst open with a sharp, ringing flare of light.
Hundreds of slips of paper scattered brilliantly, fluttering about like flower petals at the end of spring.
“Wh-what the…?”
A martial artist snatched one out of the air.
When he read the words on the slip, his eyes widened in shock as he shouted:
“‘Justice!’ It’s the thief!”
From taverns, inns, brothels, and training halls—
Martial artists poured out in swarms. The habits engraved in them over the past several days moved them automatically.
But after Elder Byeok’s defeat, no one stepped forward so easily.
The streets filled with martial artists, all hesitating and exchanging glances in silence.
“…Anyone willing to go together?”
“……”
There was no reply.
It was obvious the thief’s martial ability was far above theirs.
Who could possibly chase whom?
No one was foolish enough to risk their life pursuing a petty thief.
The great thief, who had so brilliantly captured the attention of the martial world, glided silently through the darkness.
His steps carried no hesitation, as if his destination was already set.
He passed right over the heads of several martial artists along the way, yet not a single one noticed.
He might not have known how to fight well, but when it came to hiding and fleeing, he had the utmost confidence.
‘Didn’t Divine Thief Without Shadows also say the same?’
The thief called the greatest in history—Divine Thief Without Shadows.
It was said that although he possessed the finest movement arts in the world, his raw martial ability was not particularly high.
Of course, that was somewhat misunderstood and exaggerated.
In truth, Divine Thief had once grabbed the Merchant King by the collar, teased the Blood Demon before escaping, and even occasionally faced the Sword Immortal’s Sword Levitation Technique.
The great thief felt a subtle superiority as he looked down at the martial artists failing to notice him.
In just a few days, his slightly diminished pride was being restored in real time.
‘But what in the world was that guy?’
The day he first tried to rob Wuhanzhuang Bank.
For the first time since embarking on his life in the jianghu, someone had detected him. Thanks to a formation suddenly activating, he barely managed to escape……
‘He didn’t even seem that old.’
Amazingly, he had looked around the same age as himself.
He had always dismissed martial artists of his own generation as not even worth acknowledging, usually spending his time fleeing from sect elders and clan masters of the great orthodox factions.
So of course, it was shocking and humiliating to have his presence noticed by someone his own age.
Lost in thought, he landed lightly atop a wall.
For a moment, he gazed at the signboard above the main gate.
Wuhanzhuang Bank, Yichang Branch.
Normally, he would have simply stolen the signboard.
But things were different now.
He was in an unseen competition with that bizarre imposter thief who had stolen a stele.
A mere signboard wasn’t enough.
To defend his honor, he had to steal something worthy of comparison—perhaps even greater.
He slowly circulated his inner qi.
Not for fighting, nor for movement or stealth.
Suddenly, his eyes turned crimson.
Strangely, they shone like they contained flames.
Usually, martial arts that caused red eyes were demonic, radiating a sinister aura—but this was the opposite.
With those crimson eyes, he peered into the bank’s interior.
‘Impressive… truly the work of the Rising Dragon.’
He could see the elaborate formation spread intricately throughout the bank.
Unlike ordinary formations, the ratio of life gates to death gates was absurd.
Across the vast floor, there were only a handful of tiny, thumb-sized circles that served as life gates.
In other words, stepping anywhere outside those would trigger the formation.
It was no surprise—after all, Sima Hwi of the Sima Clan had earned a place among the Five Dragons and Three Phoenixes precisely because of his mastery of formations. Seeking to restore his pride, he had spent days reinforcing and overlaying formation after formation.
‘How do the bank’s people even move around?’
Surely, they had some method.
But he didn’t need such a thing.
Whish–!
Without the slightest hesitation, he leapt forward.
His speed was astonishing, his footwork bold—yet not a single sound, not even a rustling leaf, accompanied him.
Hop after hop, he moved lightly, stepping only upon the extremely small and rare life gates.
The reason he was called the great thief wasn’t just because of his skill in movement and stealth.
It was because of these crimson eyes—Falling Flame Point Pupil.
It allowed him to see the flow of energy with absolute clarity. Even those who hid themselves in darkness and suppressed their presence were revealed before him.
‘That’s exactly why it’s so strange.’
Even with Falling Flame Point Pupil, he couldn’t locate the imposter thief.
That meant the man was a master capable of perfectly concealing his qi.
But tonight, he would reclaim his honor.
No matter how strong, no one but him could pass through the spiderweb-like formations that the Rising Dragon of the Sima Clan had set.
So he thought, as he traversed the formation with ease.
His destination: the branch leader’s office.
‘It should’ve been somewhere around here…….’
On the desk sat a luxurious inkstone.
The first night, he had come to steal that—but had been caught and forced to flee. Now, an inkstone was not enough.
His crimson eyes soon turned toward a particular wall.
There, the flow of energy was strangely blocked.
Even wooden walls usually had small cracks through which qi threads leaked.
Which meant there was something solid and impenetrable behind it.
Naturally, that would be the safe—the place where the most valuable items were kept.
‘Found it.’
Without hesitation, he drew a tool from his robe.
With skillful hands, he dismantled the wall in silence—not a single creak was heard.
Beneath the wood lay solid iron.
He placed his hand against it.
The freezing cold sensation.
‘Must be thick.’
The safe itself was likely one of the branch’s greatest treasures. Inside would surely be priceless gems, secret manuals, gold ingots, or rare texts.
But he had no interest in such predictable loot. Even if his honor was shaken by the imposter, his iron rule remained.
No one hurt.
No true loss inflicted.
From his robe, he drew another tool.
A thin awl, bent at an odd angle. He inserted it into the keyhole.
Click.
After fiddling for some time, delight flickered in his eyes. He pulled on the handle.
The safe didn’t open—the handle came off cleanly instead.
Anyone watching might think he had failed, but this was exactly what he came for.
This was what made him the great thief.
He prepared to affix a slip with the word “Justice” where the handle had been.
“……”
He had thrown them all earlier.
In his eagerness to make a scene, he hadn’t thought this far.
After a moment of thought, he nodded brightly.
No problem. This was an office, after all.
He pulled the brush and ink from the desk, grinning as he began to write.
‘Justi…’
He froze mid-stroke.
A heavy silence followed.
Slowly, with trembling eyes, he looked up.
Before him stood someone, watching casually.
‘When? No—how?’
Instinct told him immediately.
That was the imposter thief.
The problem was, this man was strong enough to beat an elder of the Beggars’ Union senseless.
His eyes filled with terror.
“…Give me back my signboard.”
And the thief realized.
There had never been an imposter thief at all.
There had only ever been one insane inn waiter.