On the first day I returned to my hometown, Gu-sam led me to the back alleys of the Western Village, where I saw the Black Night Gang for the first time. After that, I often spotted members of the dark path in town. Some were local thugs, and others looked like members of the Black Night Gang.
I usually just passed them by, so we never had a confrontation. Of course, just because they didn't pick a fight with me didn't mean they were doing any less evil.
As usual, I finished my work at dawn, slept for a while, and was enjoying a leisurely afternoon when I stopped by the Wind River Inn for an early dinner. Unlike other days, the inn was quite noisy. The innkeeper was not around, busy preparing for the dinner crowd.
The two farmers who always came at this time were in their usual seats, silently eating their noodles. The ones raising their voices unpleasantly, mixing in curses, were two unfamiliar thugs sitting by the window. A momentary silence fell as I walked in.
The men who fell silent and glared at me were clearly just messy small fry. Generic hoodlums who looked like they were stamped out from somewhere to fill the ranks of the dark path. I wondered how many people they had killed with the broadswords they had placed on the table as if to show them off.
It might work on ordinary people or lesser martial artists, but in the eyes of a true master, they were just pathetic amateurs. The problem with guys like them wasn't that their martial prowess was weak. It was that they lacked the eyes to gauge an opponent's skill.
That was why most of them didn't live very long. The way they sized me up from head to toe without averting their gaze, instead putting strength in their eyes to provoke me, was a perfect example.
I ignored them, walked past the center of the inn, and took a seat at a window on the opposite side, as far from them as possible. The farmers slurped down their noodles, broth and all, then stood up, took out some coins, and paid their bill.
Come to think of it, those two farmers were also eating noodles in this inn on the first day of my return, when I knocked out Jang Ho-dal with a single blow. Perhaps predicting a similar incident would occur, they picked up their straw hats and hastily left the inn. Gu-sam came over with a teapot.
"Rice, stir-fried vegetables, and half a catty of boiled pork."
After placing my order, I moistened my throat with tea and turned my eyes to the window outside. The street, bathed in the summer sun, was dazzling. Street vendors setting up their stalls and calling for customers, people coming and going, children running around…
Everyone was having a not-so-bad day. Even a stray dog wandering about had a small bone in its mouth. It seemed those two thugs wanted to end their useless lives, which only caused trouble for others, right here.
I was slowly getting annoyed by the piercing gazes that wouldn't leave the back of my head. I had woken up well-rested and diligently practiced my sword art. My plan was to eat a delicious meal, go to my decent job, and spend the day peacefully.
I had no plans to kill anyone, nor was I in the mood for it. Especially not in this inn. Maybe I should have worn my uniform.
I couldn't help but glance at the willow blade leaning against the table. I had bought it for five silver taels, with the intention of replacing it once my long blade was finished. If the blade was damaged by cutting someone or clashing with another sword, I obviously wouldn't get its full value back.
It was their choice to pick a fight, but if they didn't have even a single silver tael in their pouch, they wouldn't die a clean death. The thugs got up from their seats. I put down my teacup and reached for my willow blade.
"Why is there so much fat on this meat? And the soup isn't seasoned! If it's like this next time, you damn well better be ready to close up shop!"
After shouting at Gu-sam for no reason, the thugs kicked the open door and disappeared. I looked at the table and saw not a single coin on it.
"Did those guys pay?"
"No." Gu-sam whispered with a grim smile.
"Instead, I put a generous amount of my special phlegm in their food. Hehehe."
"What's with those guys?"
"They're from the Black Night Gang. They came to collect protection money and filled their bellies while they were at it."
"Half a silver tael?"
Gu-sam let out a sigh.
"Yes. Business is so-so, but since they take half a silver tael every month, it's always tight."
Among all the martial artists who walked around carrying swords, it was thugs from the dark path like them that were cursed the most. I had heard that even the Nine Sects and the Five Great Families preferred fists and swords to words and were hopeless souls obsessed with the art of killing people with weapons.
But wherever they went, they were respected as famous righteous sects and righteous heroes. It wasn't because of the purity of their martial arts. It was because even when they extorted, they did so with courtesy and decorum, and they cared about their public reputation.
Even murder-crazed lunatics didn't just kill anyone. They used the pretext of the righteous path to quench their thirst, mainly targeting members of the dark path or bandits.
"Are all the Black Night Gang members half-wits? Why do they need to travel in pairs just to collect protection money?"
"Usually, one person comes, but the Black Night Gang is in an uproar right now. They've committed many sins, so they're being careful themselves."
"Why is the Black Night Gang in an uproar?"
"Haven't you heard the rumor?"
"Don't drag it out, just tell me."
Gu-sam ran to the door, checked that no one was outside, and came back to sit across from me.
"They say three members of the Black Night Gang were stabbed to death overnight, without a soul knowing."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. The bodies were found in the morning. All three had their throats cut with a single strike before they could even put up a proper fight."
As if the thought alone was satisfying, Gu-sam excitedly ran his mouth, making a throat-slitting gesture with his hand. The Deep Fragrance Pavilion was quite a distance from the Black Night Gang, with many buildings in between.
Still, if something had happened, I would have known, as men with swords would have been running around with torches, searching for the culprit. Nothing happened during my shift last night. It seemed the bodies were discovered after I had left, just as Gu-sam said.
"Did they catch the culprit?"
"No. It seems they're rounding up and torturing people who held grudges against the dead guys, but if those people had such martial skills, would they have put up with it all this time? They say the dead guys were stripped of all their silver and weapons. People are saying it was an act of righteous justice by a wandering master who drifted into the Western Village…"
I cut him off as I lifted my teacup.
"It was a robbery-murder."
"A robbery?"
"If you kill someone and take their things, it's a robbery-murder."
Gu-sam blinked, looking unconvinced. Looking only at the result, my words were correct, but he seemed to think it was unfair to call the person a robber and murderer. It seemed he wanted to call the one who had done a righteous deed by eliminating villains a 'righteous hero'.
"I hope those guys from before get killed off too. So we don't have to pay protection money."
"Then other guys will come to collect it."
After a moment of hesitation, Gu-sam lowered his voice.
"What if the entire Black Night Gang is wiped out? I don't know who it is, but they say he's an incredible master. People aren't saying it out loud, but they seem to be secretly hoping for it."
"You think that would mean no more protection money?"
Gu-sam tilted his head and asked back.
"If all the villains are gone, there'd be no one to extort money, right?"
"Is the dark path only in the Western Village? If word gets out that the Western Village is up for grabs, nearby dark path factions will swarm in. They'll fight with swords in the streets in broad daylight to claim it. Shops will be wrecked, and passersby will get hurt for no reason. This will continue until one or two factions take control of the back alleys."
"... Really?"
"Didn't you say all sorts of dark path factions were running rampant in the Western Village before the Black Night Gang unified them?"
"Yes, that's what I heard."
"It will probably go right back to those days."
"Won't the authorities do something?"
"They'll take a bribe and side with the winner. They'll arrest the losers and charge them as the culprits."
I didn't know this because I was smart. I could say it with confidence because I had seen it with my own eyes several times. No matter how vast and varied the Central Plains was, the way the world worked was the same.
Once a source of money appeared, legal or not, only the face of the one collecting it would change; no one would ever get rid of the source itself. Gu-sam was lost in thought with a deflated expression. Just then, a young cook peeked his head out from the kitchen.
"Food's ready!"
Gu-sam brought the food I had ordered. As I picked up my chopsticks, I suddenly thought of Jang Ho-dal, who had beaten up Gu-sam and extorted money from the cloth merchant. The authorities dealt with his corpse, which had been sprawled in the back alley.
There was no reaction from the Black Night Gang. As expected, Jang Ho-dal was a nobody. Gu-sam must have heard about the situation that day from the innkeeper or the cook.
He could have easily guessed who killed Jang Ho-dal, but he never asked or showed any curiosity about it. Since I acted as if nothing had happened, the kid was sharp enough to pretend not to know and moved on. No matter how much he admired righteous heroes, Gu-sam was not a martial artist.
Murder is a terrifying thing, and he might be scared, not knowing how to handle the fact that I had dirtied my hands because of him. I once stayed for a while in a small slash-and-burn village.
A few bandits came to plunder their food for the winter, so I dealt with them, thinking I might as well earn my keep. The villagers were relieved and greatly thanked me. And they feared me.
More than they feared the bandits. Even the village chief, who had been patting my shoulder and joking just moments before, could no longer meet my eyes. It was natural.
To ordinary people living their lives, violence and murder are nothing but disasters they want to avoid, things that can ruin their lives completely. No one wanted a skilled murderer who could nonchalantly kill people like pigs and dogs as their neighbor. Fortunately, Gu-sam did not fear me.
He treated me as casually as before. That alone was enough. Still, perhaps a subtle show of goodwill wouldn't hurt.
Looking at the food in front of me, I casually asked Gu-sam.
"No dumplings today?"
Gu-sam narrowed his eyes and stared at me intently. I added one more phrase, and his expression changed completely.
"I saw Ye Hyang."
"Really? What was she like? Like a fairy descended from the heavens…"
"Like a deer."
"... A deer? Ye Hyang wasn't a person?"
"You'll know when you see her."
Gu-sam stared at me with a puzzled expression. Though suspicious, he eventually brought half a plate of dumplings. As I entered the main street, I saw members of the Black Night Gang in groups of three or four, walking around and causing trouble.
They were creating a hostile atmosphere by glaring at the nearby merchants, picking fights, and kicking over their stalls. Passersby quickened their steps to avoid them, afraid of getting into trouble. If they were searching for the killer who took their comrades' heads, there would be no reason to take out their anger so pointlessly.
It seemed their purpose was to show off their strength. With three members slaughtered at once and the killer still at large, the Black Night Gang's reputation must have been greatly damaged. So they wanted to confirm that they were still the masters of this street and could kill people like them at any time.
This is how the dark path usually acted, but… It seemed the blow the Black Night Gang suffered this time was quite significant. The ones who were killed were probably at least mid-level officers.
Making such a fuss over the deaths of a few low-level members would only further tarnish their reputation. When I arrived at the Deep Fragrance Pavilion for my shift, another escort was guarding the main gate instead of Bang Jo-in.
"He took leave, said he wasn't feeling well. I bet you that bastard Bang Jo-in is in some back-alley gambling den holding tiles. That guy works just for the fun of throwing money away at a gambling den."
It was clear that Bang Jo-in had suddenly come into some money last night. Did he sneak into the brothel, the servants' quarters, or the detached houses and steal it? If he had, there would have been an uproar about missing money, but the Deep Fragrance Pavilion was quiet.
No matter how crazy he was about gambling, a man who feared the agency master so much wouldn't openly bring shame to the escort agency's name. There's a superstition that you have to spend ill-gotten money quickly. As if putting that saying into practice, Bang Jo-in showed up for work the next day with a haggard face, looking completely broke.
His left side, where his pouch should have been, was flat. Having lost that much money, he might have lost his senses and tried to cheat, but both his hands were intact. The gambling world of the Western Village seemed far more brutal than I had expected.
And Bang Jo-in was a much bigger coward than I had assumed.
"Ughhh."
Bang Jo-in leaned against the wall, moaning with a dejected face. Anyone looking at him would think he had a hangover, but this was not something that would get better with time. It was a withdrawal symptom that only temporarily subsided when he was sitting at the table, holding the tiles.
Most gamblers are addicted to the thrill of the gamble, the suspense of flipping the tiles, whether they win or lose, and spend their lives hovering around gambling dens. They end up losing their fortune, their wife, selling their daughter, losing fingers and eyes one by one, and eventually becoming unidentified corpses on the street.
When you thought about it, what gamblers did was no different from what opium addicts did.
"I heard a few Black Night Gang members died. Seems the gambling dens are safe, though?"
"You think the Black Night Gang would close shop and hold a three-year mourning period just because they lost a few grunts? This is all about making a living."
Bang Jo-in replied gruffly, his bloodshot eyes narrowing. I asked him a few things, like who had died and if he had heard anything about the killer, but he just shook his head, annoyed. Just then, a carriage entered.
The driver announced a name, and a servant came out to guide the carriage to the main hall. The first guest of the day was the Provincial Graduate and scholar Lee Yun-jae, who had also been here yesterday.
It seemed he had fallen for Ye Hyang's deer-like eyes, as he had been visiting the brothel every day since the celebration feast. Still unable to sleep, his face, lost in deep sorrow, looked quite haggard. Lee Yun-jae didn't go straight into the main hall but turned to look our way.
Despite the distance and the darkness, it wasn't hard to tell that the person he was glaring at was Bang Jo-in. Seeing him slyly hide himself by the gate, it seemed Bang Jo-in had something to feel guilty about. After Lee Yun-jae disappeared into the main hall, a few more carriages arrived.
Bang Jo-in fidgeted with his empty left side, lost in thought. After hesitating and wrestling with himself for a long time, he suddenly took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and his eyes widened. He looked like he was trying to somehow squeeze out what little courage and nerve he had to carry out some plan.
"I'm going to the latrine."
How many people go to relieve themselves with such a grim face? Nine times out of ten, he was surely going to get more easy money. I didn't want to get involved, but if things went wrong, I could get caught in the crossfire.
"Brother Bang."
I called out in a low voice, and Bang Jo-in flinched and turned around.
"What?"
"I don't know what it is, but don't do it."
Bang Jo-in glared at me with fierce eyes. When I didn't look away, he coughed awkwardly with a guilty expression and turned his head.
"Ahem, you want me to drop my pants and take a dump in front of you? Just guard the gate."
"I'll be right back after I'm done. I might be a little late. Drank too much yesterday, and my stomach is in knots."
Bang Jo-in pretended to clutch his stomach and disappeared with quick steps. That was the last time I saw Bang Jo-in. One quarter-hour passed, and he didn't return.
Two quarter-hours passed, then three.
"Working hard, I see."
A middle-aged escort, who managed the brothel while on standby in the living quarters, appeared to relieve me for my break.
"Go get your late-night meal. Where's that guy Bang Jo-in? Why are you alone?"
"He went to the latrine."
"When?"
"About half a shichen ago, I think."
The escort frowned.
"What kind of crap takes half a shichen to dump? Is that bastard hiding somewhere and sleeping again?"
Leaving the grumbling escort behind, I headed to the living quarters. For a small or medium-sized faction, a late-night meal would be nothing more than a few hard buns or poorly filled dumplings. Many didn't even provide that, but the Deep Fragrance Pavilion, being an expensive brothel, usually served one or two dishes that could be called proper food.
They were dishes that were awkward to serve to guests or cold leftovers from cleared tables, but they were still better than the dishes you could buy at a typical inn.
"Kyaaaak!"
Walking along, licking my lips, I turned at the sound of a sharp, piercing scream. I ran to the area behind the main hall and found a young woman trembling, her face pale. I didn't know her name but recognized her as a maid I had seen around.
"What happened?"
Looking as if she had seen a ghost, the maid, her face drained of color, covered her mouth and pointed a trembling hand somewhere.
"Th-th-there..."
On the secluded back path leading to the detached houses. Midway down the path, someone was collapsed, face down on the ground. I drew the knife from my back and quickly scanned the surroundings.
Around the motionless, silent man, I checked under and on top of the walls of the detached houses, the roofs, the dark passages between buildings, and all the adjacent buildings. After confirming no one was there, I kept my guard up and quickly approached the scene. The fallen man was wearing an escort's uniform.
I sheathed my willow blade, pushed him to the side, and laid him on his back. The smell of fresh blood, spilled not long ago, pricked my nose. The moment I saw his face, I knew that no matter how long it had been, he couldn't have been dead for more than half a shichen.
That was around the time Bang Jo-in had left for the latrine. It seemed to have been a surprise attack; Bang Jo-in had died without even properly closing his eyes. His face and neck were unharmed.
The fatal wound was on his left chest, on the two characters '龍天' (Dragon Sky). Beneath the torn, blood-soaked characters was his heart. Stabbed in the heart, his death was of course instantaneous.
As I was about to stand up, the bulging side of his clothes caught my eye. I opened his clothes and found a pouch full of silver taels. That crazy gambling bastard.
Did he really jump the wall and steal it... It was an ending befitting a gambler, but something didn't add up. There was no time to ponder.
Voices and footsteps were growing louder behind me. To avoid any misunderstandings, I had to move quickly before people gathered. I put the pouch back inside the corpse's clothes and quickly stood up.