Hmm, I understand.” When I asked him to come with me to the black market to look at some spiritual herbs, Do Gwang-il thought for a moment before accepting. It was a day's journey by carriage, and I had no desire to walk that far in this weather.
I hated riding horses too, so I rented a carriage. The next morning, we left the Western Village by carriage early.
"A letter of introduction from the Underworld Information Clan..."
Do Gwang-il glanced over it once before handing the letter back.
"Have you read this?"
"I have."
Do Gwang-il tilted his head.
“You know how to read?”
“I’ve at least finished the Thousand Character Classic.”
In this world, if you're weak in martial arts, you face a lot of injustice, and if you can't read, people treat you like a fool and a pushover. It had happened to me more than once.
I did a tough job and got paid with a banknote, only to find out it was a promissory note issued by a merchant guild that had gone bankrupt ten years ago. Whenever I was hired by a faction, I would thoughtlessly affix my seal to contracts I couldn't even read.
Usually, it was fine, but one time, I worked for three months and, far from getting paid, I ended up with a debt of one silver tael. It was absurd. Those sons of bitches charged me for room and board, which should have been provided for free.
And they inflated the cost to the level of a first-rate inn, completely ripping me off. I was furious, but they shamelessly insisted it was written in the contract. The time I was tasked with delivering a letter was truly horrifying.
The pay and travel expenses were so high that I had a bad feeling, so I asked a scholar I met at an inn for help. After I bought him a meal and drinks, the scholar read the letter for me. It said: 'Don't pay the man who brings this letter.
Just kill him and silence him.' From then on, I got a copy of the Thousand Character Classic and paid various scholars to teach me whenever I had the time. I wasn't completely hopeless, and after about a year of studying, my eyes were opened.
The scholar recommended I move on to the Lesser Learning and the Analects, but since I had no intention of taking the civil service exam, I closed the books there.
“How much money did you bring?”
“I didn’t know how much a spiritual herb would cost, so I brought everything I have.”
“Good. The most expensive isn’t always the best, but there’s nothing good among the cheap stuff.”
This was about obtaining inner energy. If I tried to save money and ate something strange, ending up with qi deviation, my life would be over right there. The carriage, which had been rattling along the damned main road until my buttocks ached, suddenly slowed down.
The driver soothed the horse and looked back.
“The sun’s too hot, the horse is exhausted. There’s something like an inn over there, how about we rest for a bit?”
“Let’s do that.”
The carriage left the main road and headed toward a shabby inn at the foot of the mountain, a flag fluttering in the wind. I got out of the carriage, rubbing my backside, and stretched. The driver parked the carriage in the shade, took a bucket from the cargo hold, and gave the horse some water.
I opened my bamboo tube to find that I had already drunk it all.
“Let’s have a cup of tea at the inn.”
The inn was old, but the inside was spacious and clean. There were no customers. I didn't see a waiter either.
"Anyone here?"
As I stepped over the threshold, the old wooden floorboards creaked. I walked in without thinking, but then the hair on my head stood on end as if I had stepped on a dead rat. I instinctively stopped walking.
There was nothing at my feet. The resonance of the creaking floorboards had just subtly changed. Beside me, Do Gwang-il clicked his tongue softly.
“Why is it so hot in this inn? It would be cooler outside.”
Do Gwang-il turned and sat at an outdoor table under the shade of the eaves. I quietly retreated and took the seat opposite him. Only then did a man who looked to be in his mid-twenties come out of the inn.
He was clearly not a waiter, but he didn't seem to be the innkeeper either.
"Would you like to order?"
“Tea, please.”
I took out some coins to pay for the tea, and a hot teapot was placed in the middle of the table. I poured the tea into the cups but didn't touch it. It wasn't just because of the hot weather.
"Did you happen to feel it?"
“What do you think it is?”
Do Gwang-il asked back calmly. He also left his teacup untouched and quietly kept an eye on the inn's surroundings. So my intuition was right.
I carefully looked around the inside and outside of the inn. A shabby, single-story building that looked like a converted warehouse. No guest rooms for lodging, and no stables in sight.
If not for the flag hanging outside, I would have passed by without even knowing it was an inn. We hadn't seen a single person coming or going on our way here. Could they make a living running an inn in such a remote place?
If not through legitimate business, how were they making money? The man who took our order and brought the teapot didn't seem like someone who worked at an inn either. He looked simple, but his eyes were sharp and he had a swagger in his walk.
He smelled of the dark path. The floor of the inn I had just stepped on. From the fourth step I took after crossing the threshold, the resonance of the creaking suddenly became open and light.
As if the space under the floorboards from that point on was completely empty. And quite deep and wide, at that.
"It seems like a black inn..."
“So? Are you planning to play the hero?”
I looked through the open door into the empty inn. Pale dust motes drifted aimlessly in the slanting sunlight. What could be under that floor…
Unpleasant scenes I had encountered while rolling through the martial world flashed through my mind. Things that were dismembered or tied up tightly. If this was a black inn, they surely had a gang.
Even if I cut them all down, their superiors who receive tribute would come after me. If I wiped them all out, someone even higher up would come down. They would persistently cling to me as if waging a war of attrition.
They could also hire assassins with money. This is why organizations are so frightening. Unless you cut off the head in one blow, the organization moves systematically, taking a piece of your flesh, a drop of your blood.
Exchanging a piece of flesh for killing one person might seem like a good deal, but if that's repeated dozens of times, even the greatest master would be reduced to a skeleton. That's why even martial artists who build their fame by subjugating bandits never touch the mountain fortresses belonging to the Green Forest.
The world wouldn't change just because I played the hero once or twice.
"Forget it.
Let's be on our way.” I stayed on high alert, prepared for a surprise attack, but the man from before did not reappear. The driver, who was resting in the shade with the horse, waved and called us over.
I threw the tea from the cup into the grass and got into the carriage. From within the swaying carriage, I stared intently at the receding inn.
I didn't know if it was a real black inn or not, but the thought that such suspicious characters were just half a day's journey from my hometown, the Western Village, was deeply unsettling. Thinking about it, it was a ridiculous thought. In the Western Village's downtown, the irredeemable thugs of the Black Night Gang had already firmly established themselves.
The things those bastards did in the back alleys were surely no better than what happened in a black inn. * We finally arrived at our destination at dusk. It was too late to return today, so we got a room at an inn and went to the place Geuk-hwan had told me about.
The black market was a dark market where transactions took place secretly, out of sight. The shops of the black market were scattered here and there, operating under different signs. If you didn't know in advance where they sold what, you couldn't even find them.
The place I was introduced to was an apothecary. When I presented the letter of introduction, I was immediately guided to a private room.
“You’re looking for spiritual herbs?”
“Let’s see everything from mid-grade to high-grade.”
“Understood. Please wait a moment.”
The apothecary brought several wooden boxes and placed them down in front of us.
“Alright, let’s start with this one. This is the finest item in our shop.”
The apothecary triumphantly opened a wooden box, revealing a light brown herb the size of a fist.
“This is a twenty-year-old Fo-Ti Root.”
Unlike me, who didn't know what it was and was just listening to the explanation, Do Gwang-il immediately dismissed it.
“Twenty years, my foot. It’s five years old at best.”
“What? What kind of nonsense are you spouting? This thing is…”
“Enough. A twenty-year-old Fo-Ti Root is at least twice that size.”
Do Gwang-il shook his head firmly. The apothecary glanced at us, coughed awkwardly, and stealthily closed the box. Next was a Sun-Essence Tiger-Eye Herb.
A spiritual herb that was said to look like a tiger's eye from the front. Again, after a few words from Do Gwang-il, the wooden box was slid aside. One by one, the boxes were opened and closed like a question-and-answer session.
Do Gwang-il glared at the apothecary with stern eyes.
“Look here. If you keep soiling this old man's eyes with these low-grade items, the price you pay will not be light. It seems you have some fakes mixed in as well… Do you take the Underworld Information Clan for a joke?”
“Goodness, fakes? Absolutely not. I’ve lived my life in the apothecary business on trust alone, how can you say such things?”
The apothecary, seemingly not expecting to be reprimanded so harshly, broke into a cold sweat as he protested. It seemed he was used to dealing only with ignorant martial artists like me, who knew nothing about medicinal herbs. The black market never guaranteed quality or authenticity.
The one who gets fooled is the fool, and if you get fooled, it's up to you to solve it, whether by throwing a fit or turning into a robber. Still, to present fake goods to someone who came with an introduction from the Underworld Information Clan...
If I had come alone, I would have blown my entire fortune on a couple of useless roots.
“This isn’t all you have, is it?”
“Hooo, most gentlemen would be satisfied with this much, but you heroes truly have high standards." "I do have a special-grade spiritual herb for those with such excellent discernment, but… it's so expensive I hesitate to recommend it.”
The apothecary's tone was subtle, meant to pique our curiosity. This guy, he was dragging this out just to sell that.
Of course.
A man who makes his living in the black market couldn't be this clumsy. He must have judged that, even if I didn't know anything, Do Gwang-il clearly had a discerning eye, and intentionally laid out the junk to raise the stakes. Losing my patience, I asked first.
"What is it?"
“It is a Snow Ginseng.”
Do Gwang-il’s eyes narrowed.
"Where did this ginseng come from?"
"Don't be surprised. The Heavenly Mountains.” The Heavenly Mountains were a place teeming with Demonic Sect warriors.
A region outside the borders, far north beyond Qinghai. A place where the nation's power didn't properly reach, so if an item came from the Heavenly Mountains, it was smuggled nine times out of ten. "If you're trying to fool us with some wild ginseng or yellow root, this shop will be engulfed in flames tonight."
“Of course.
But the price will not be cheap.” “Let’s see the item first.” “It’s not here.”
Do Gwang-il and I glared at him at the same time. The apothecary flinched but didn't lose his merchant's smile. “It’s not an item from our shop.
Actually, I was recently asked to broker a deal. You’ll have to meet the seller directly to make the transaction."
"We just take a commission for brokering. As it happens, the seller is in the black market. Would you like to meet him?
If I send word now, the deal can be made in about an hour.”
“Let’s do that.”
We arranged a meeting and went outside.
“I have a small errand to run, so let’s meet back here in an hour.”
Do Gwang-il walked off alone into the crowd. I had thought it was strange that he had come along so willingly; it seemed he had another purpose. The night street was bustling with entertainment and crowds.
Since it was a city formed outside the castle walls, there was no curfew here, just like in the Western Village. There were brothels larger than the Deep Fragrance Pavilion, and the alleys were filled with thriving taverns and gambling dens. After a quick look around, I returned to the front of the apothecary.
I passed the time by having a light drink at the tavern across the street. I don't know what he did, but Do Gwang-il appeared on time. We went into the apothecary together.
“The seller of the Snow Ginseng arrived first and is waiting for you.”
As we entered the private room, a middle-aged man with a bamboo hat pulled down low stood up from his seat. He was a martial artist with a Goose Feather blade at his waist.
“I hear you’re interested in the Snow Ginseng?”
It was a voice I had never heard before. It was only natural, as this was the first time we had met. The moment the middle-aged man slightly lifted the brim of his bamboo hat and looked at me and Do Gwang-il, something unnatural happened.
He was familiar. The drooping eyes, the chubby cheeks. About fifty years old... no, he must be forty-five.
The long, slender hand of a woman tattooed on his neck. If I were to remove his martial robes, there would be a tattoo of the Medicine Buddha extending to his chest. His eyes were bloodshot and the skin beneath them was dark, whether from heavy drinking or a sleepless night.
Still, it was an almost perfect match to the face in the portrait Won Seo-gang had shown me. I was once again amazed by the skill of some unknown artist.
Ban Ho-yang.
The man who was supposed to be holed up in the Black Night Gang's territory to avoid Won Seo-gang's sword, why was he here… Ban Ho-yang took a small wooden box from his robes. He carefully picked up the Snow Ginseng, wrapped in silk, and showed it off proudly.
A sharp, cold energy subtly tickled the tip of my nose.
“This is the treasure of the Heavenly Mountains. The Heavenly Mountain Snow Ginseng.”