Seo-jun led Hyun-wol to a suitable room.
Namgung Su-a excused herself, claiming she had training to do—perhaps to give them privacy or maybe to escape. Pae Jin-gwang, bored and curious, tagged along.
“To get straight to the point, I don’t have highly accurate information about the Blood Mist Clan. The sect itself is incredibly secretive, so even gathering scraps of information hasn’t yielded much,” Hyun-wol began.
“The Blood Mist Clan? Why them all of a sudden?” Pae Jin-gwang asked.
Seo-jun raised a finger to his lips. “Elder, shh.”
Pae Jin-gwang clicked his tongue in annoyance but closed his mouth.
“The information I have is trustworthy to a degree,” Hyun-wol continued. “I’ve also brought some unreliable rumors, but take those with a grain of salt.”
He pulled out two scrolls from his sleeve.
One scroll contained the verified information Hyun-wol had carefully selected. The other was full of unverified, almost fanciful speculations.
Handing the scrolls to Seo-jun, Hyun-wol quickly summarized the contents: the location, structure, manpower, sect leader’s level, primary martial arts techniques, defensive formations likely installed, and other schemes they might employ.
Listening to Hyun-wol’s rapid delivery, Seo-jun was impressed.
“Wow, your memory must be amazing. How did you remember all that?”
“It’s part of the job. If I couldn’t do this much, I’d be useless.”
As Hyun-wol smiled, Pae Jin-gwang, unable to hold back, asked again.
“So, what’s this all about?”
“I’m planning to wipe them out. They keep sending assassins after me; it’s getting annoying.”
“Ha… They must be insane. Of all people, they chose to provoke you?”
“What did I do?” Seo-jun asked innocently.
“Never mind,” Pae Jin-gwang chuckled.
Hyun-wol observed their exchange with mild amusement.
“I see you’re quite close with the Fist King.”
“Oh? You knew?”
“I wouldn’t be much good at this job if I didn’t.”
“Oh, I just assumed you didn’t know since you didn’t react,” Seo-jun replied with a laugh, tapping his fingers on the table. The soft hum of his energy filled the room, and a waiting servant quickly brought in tea.
Sniffing the aroma, Seo-jun nodded approvingly.
“This is how tea should be made.”
The tea he’d brewed last time was basically bitter water.
“Thank you,” he said to the servant.
“No, thank you,” she replied with a respectful bow, retreating as she closed the door.
Once alone, Seo-jun tucked both scrolls into his robe and pulled something else out—a wooden token. It was a token symbolizing his position as a branch leader, given to him by Mae Wol of the Red Moon Hall back in his street days with Chun-bong.
“Oh? Is that…?” Pae Jin-gwang asked.
“You recognize it?”
“Of course. That’s the token of a branch leader in the Fragrant Alliance. You should’ve shown me this when we first met.”
“Didn’t think I’d need to.”
Recalling their first encounter, Hyun-wol nodded with a wry smile.
“Fair enough.”
“So, is this thing actually useful?” Seo-jun asked.
“Well… for someone at your level, probably not. But as a branch leader, you could walk into any branch and grab someone by the collar to get all the information you want.”
“Do I look like a thug to you?”
Hyun-wol chuckled as Seo-jun grumbled.
“Other than that, though… well, there’s not much unity between branches of the Fragrant Alliance, so it might not mean much. But other branch leaders might be more friendly toward you.”
“Do I get a discount?” Seo-jun joked.
“That depends on the branch leader. Here, take this as well.”
Hyun-wol pulled out another token from his sleeve—this one was metal, not wood.
Was it the difference between the poorer back alleys and wealthier cities?
“It’s the token of a city-level branch leader. It might be of some use.”
“A city-level branch? Wait, you’re a branch leader of Hanam?”
“You didn’t know?”
“I’m surprised. You’re more impressive than I thought.”
Hyun-wol smirked as he tossed the token to Seo-jun, who caught it easily and pocketed it.
“Thanks.”
“No need for thanks.”
“If anyone gives you trouble, call me. I’ll take care of it quietly.”
“…Are you serious?”
“Half-serious? At the very least, I’ll rough them up.”
Seo-jun chuckled as he leaned back, almost lying on the floor.
“So, is that all the business we had?”
“That’s right.”
“Then let’s relax for a while.”
“Haha, now that’s an offer I can’t refuse.”
Hyun-wol spent nearly two hours at the villa before he finally left.
The preliminary rounds of the Yongbong Gathering were drawing near.
Seo-jun, who’d been helping Chun-bong and Namgung Su-a with their training, suddenly lay flat on the floor, grumbling.
“This crazy Central Plains… I still don’t get why it’s so huge.”
Namgung Su-a, now having overcome her earlier shyness, approached casually.
“Why? Is there somewhere you want to go?”
She gently lifted his head onto her lap, laughing softly as she ran her fingers through his hair. Chun-bong narrowed her eyes.
“…Why are you two so close lately? What did you do while I wasn’t around?”
“Now, now, Geum. I didn’t have any tasty snacks while you were gone.”
“Suspicious…”
Chun-bong ran over and plopped herself right on Seo-jun’s stomach, clicking her tongue.
“And what’s the problem with Central Plains being big, anyway?”
“It’s a problem. It takes forever to get anywhere.”
“Idiot. You’re good at something, aren’t you?”
“Good at something?”
Seo-jun pondered.
Martial arts, curses, annoying people, romance…
“I’m good at lots of things.”
“Ugh…”
Annoyed, Chun-bong bounced on his stomach.
Her pointed tailbone struck his ribs.
“Ugh…!”
“Just make a new movement technique, you idiot!”
“Oh?”
Right. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty good at creating martial arts.
“Why didn’t I think of that…?”
That’s why you need others to bounce ideas off of.
Once you get focused on one path, you often miss all the other possibilities.
“Our Chun-bong…! You’re a genius…!”
Seo-jun sprang up, lifting Chun-bong high into the air.
Hovering midair, she raised her chin proudly.
“Hmph, only just realizing that?”
“Yes! My Chun-bong is a genius! I was the fool!”
“Hmm, keep going.”
“The greatest talent!”
“Now it’s getting old.”
“My mature Chun-bong!”
“You’re dead meat.”
Grinning, Seo-jun mentally added “create an amazing movement technique” to his to-do list.
He’d practiced techniques like Hwangun-shin-gong and Pa-ryeok-gwae-shin-gong , but he hadn’t actually used them for speed.
He’d gotten some use out of Yellow Dragon Crossing , but that wasn’t really a speed-focused movement.
‘There must be more…’
He started recalling techniques he’d almost forgotten about, realizing there were at least two he could tap into.
“Oh.”
“What now?”
“I just remembered that Four Black Lotus technique.”
“What about it?”
“I was planning to ask if I could borrow it to use later, but I forgot.”
Since Chun-bong despised the Four Black Lotus, it was an important matter.
As expected, Chun-bong’s expression twisted.
“Why would you want that?”
“Wouldn’t it be fun to use it right in front of them?”
“…Hmm. Good idea. Approved.”
“Great.”
And one more thing.
Seo-jun’s face grew serious as he looked at Namgung Su-a.
Feeling the weight of his gaze, she froze.
Trying to control her blushing, she cautiously asked.
“W-what is it…?”
“Nuna.”
“Y-yeah…”
“The time has come.”
At his unexpected words, both Chun-bong and Namgung Su-a tilted their heads.
Seo-jun declared.
“Today, we arm wrestle again.”
Now, he was confident.
With his mastery of Pa-ryeok-gwae-shin-gong , he felt it was finally time to reclaim his lost honor.
Chun-bong let out a snort of laughter.
“Unbelievable. You still haven’t let that go?”
“This is serious.”
Seo-jun lay on the floor, taking the arm-wrestling position.
“Bring it on, Nuna.”
“Well… how about we make a bet?”
“A bet?”
Seo-jun’s lips curled into a smirk.
He wasn’t about to turn down a surefire victory.
“Sure. What’s the bet?”
“The winner gets a wish.”
“Oh? What’s the wish?”
Namgung Su-a tapped her lips playfully.
“A kiss.”
“What…”
Seo-jun’s eyes widened.
But not as much as Chun-bong’s.
“W-what!? A k-kiss!? On the lips!? That’s so shameless…!”
Horrified, Chun-bong stomped her feet in place.
Namgung Su-a looked seriously at Seo-jun.
“What about you?”
“Uh…”
Actually, wouldn’t it be better to let her win? He could always arm-wrestle again next time…
“Can I decide my wish later?”
“Of course.”
Namgung Su-a smiled slyly.
“No limits on the wish. Anything you want…”
“Oh…”
While Seo-jun was marveling, Namgung Su-a quickly grabbed his hand.
There was no going back now.
The two wrestlers took their positions, with Chun-bong as the referee.
“Eek…!”
Chun-bong gritted her teeth, glaring at Seo-jun.
He wouldn’t throw the match on purpose, would he?
But this wasn’t something she could stop. If they wanted to kiss, what could she do?
All she could hope for was…
“…Begin!”
At Chun-bong’s signal, Seo-jun and Namgung Su-a tensed their arms.
Namgung Su-a gave it her all. Her slender arm veins popped out, her face scrunched with effort.
But her arm didn’t budge from the center.
It was a tie.
No, Namgung Su-a quickly realized.
“Oh…”
Her hand hit the ground lightly.
Finally, Seo-jun’s overwhelming victory.
Thrilled, Seo-jun sprang up.
His honor was restored at last.
With a broad grin, he said.
“I’ll think of my wish later and let you know.”
“…Alright.”
A bit downcast, Namgung Su-a brushed the dirt off her clothes as she stood.
But only for a moment—soon, she regained her usual smile, taking hold of her sword.
“Then, let’s get back to training…”
Just then, Seo-jun stepped closer to her.
Namgung Su-a’s eyes widened as he neared, her trembling blue eyes reflecting his approach.
Leaning forward slightly, Seo-jun lightly kissed her forehead.
“This one’s on the house.”
“Huh…?”
Namgung Su-a’s hands flew to her forehead, and her gaze trembled.
“Why… why do you keep…”
Always catching her off guard…
Her face flushed red as she lowered her head.
Though hidden by her hair, her lips curled into a pleased smile.
Chun-bong, who had seen everything, was livid.
“What do you mean, ‘on the house’? Have you been reading romance novels? Who actually says that kind of stuff!”
“Aw, does Chun-bong want a kiss too? Come here.”
“I don’t need it! Get away!”
Sticking out her tongue, Chun-bong dashed off. Clearly, she was sulking. He’d have to soothe her later.
Smiling to himself, Seo-jun dusted off his sleeves.
He’d had his fun, and now it was time to get back to work.
Movement arts…
His goal was simple: speed. A technique that would let him cover vast distances in a single bound.
It seemed this would be his top priority for the time being.