Geuk-hwan was a man who rarely showed any change in expression. His face was as white as paper, and his gaze and voice were always cold and composed. But now, he was frowning.
He seemed quite perplexed.
“You think the inspector is a fake?”
The only evidence presented was a single mended spot on the clothes, stitched with a needle and thread. Geuk-hwan’s eyes narrowed as he looked at me.
“That seems like a far-fetched assumption.”
“Have you met that inspector before?”
“This is the first time.”
“Then how would you know if he’s real or an imposter?”
Geuk-hwan’s answer was clear.
“He is wearing the uniform of a Murim Alliance executive, which is impossible to obtain anywhere else, and he carries an inspector’s identification token and seal. The attire and swords of the Murim Alliance members he brought as escorts are also genuine.”
“They could have been killed and stolen.”
“Inspectors also come from martial families or orthodox sects. They are not so easily defeated. Their guards are warriors carefully selected from small and medium factions. Moreover, he seems to be quite knowledgeable about the internal affairs of the Murim Alliance. I asked him various things, and he answered without hesitation.”
“Is there no one else who might recognize the inspector’s face?”
Geuk-hwan studied my expression for a moment before speaking.
“Do you know how many inspectors there are in the Murim Alliance?”
“Aren’t there about ten?”
“As of last year, there were nineteen.”
“... There are that many?”
“The inspectors are mid-level managers in the Inspection Department. They are under the supervision of the Chief Inspector, who heads the department…”
The key positions in the Murim Alliance, such as the Alliance Leader, the Guardians, the Elders, and the leaders of the main strike forces, were all monopolized by the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Families. Naturally, the complaints from the small and medium factions pierced the heavens.
To appease them, the leaders of the Murim Alliance lavishly handed out titles that looked impressive on the outside but held no real power. The position of inspector was one of them. The title ‘inspector’ might sound like it comes with absolute authority, but in reality, their job was merely to investigate incidents and submit reports.
They had neither the authority to investigate the upper echelons nor the power to pass judgment.
“Not just me, but even the pavilion master and the other branch masters of the Underworld Information Clan do not know the faces of all the inspectors. A considerable number of them work indoors and rarely leave the Murim Alliance.”
“Can’t we send a portrait to the Murim Alliance to find out?”
I wanted to confirm the truth before getting further entangled, but Geuk-hwan shook his head.
“The Murim Alliance does not easily confirm portraits. Since most of them are from famous righteous sects, they have a strong tendency to look down on the Underworld Information Clan as being beneath them. Some of them even have a habit of saying, ‘How dare the likes of the Underworld Information Clan.’ They are not hostile, but they are not friendly either. Suspecting an executive-level official without clear evidence will only make the problem bigger. The possibility is slim, but…”
Geuk-hwan paused, lost in deep thought, before continuing cautiously.
“Even if, by some chance, the inspector is a fake as you say, Great Hero Jeong, contacting the Murim Alliance would not be beneficial. The fact that an inspector was defeated by a fiend and had his identity stolen would tarnish the prestige of the Murim Alliance and its Leader. To save face, they would deny it to the end and shift the blame onto us. I will report this to the pavilion master, so please wait. I am sure there will be appropriate measures.”
I didn’t know much about the Murim Alliance, but it seemed entirely plausible that those high-nosed bastards would do such a thing. At that point, I could no longer doubt the inspector. The more we talked, the more Geuk-hwan’s words sounded extremely logical and reasonable.
In contrast, my reaction seemed like an overreaction based on insufficient evidence, even to myself. Perhaps seeing the martial arts uniforms of the dead warriors at the Bang Cloth Shop had left such a strong impression that I was startled by the mended spot on the inspector’s clothes. If that was the case, I had nothing to say.
The middle-aged man in the inspector’s uniform was named Pyo Hol-deuk. He said he had come all the way from Gansu to the Western Village in pursuit of an opium merchant.
“Most of the opium circulating in the Central Plains is made in the Western Regions and enters through the Heavenly Mountains, Xinjiang, and Qinghai. I received intelligence in Gansu and was tracking them with the Kongtong Sect, but I lost them. After inquiring in all directions, I heard news that an opium merchant had appeared in the Western Village and rushed here…”
No one asked why the Murim Alliance, a coalition of the righteous sects, was cracking down on opium, a task that should have been handled by the authorities. The unwritten rule of non-interference between the martial world and the government seemed meaningless, as the Murim Alliance actively cooperated with the authorities.
The Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Families actively pushed their disciples and children into government and military positions. It was not uncommon for the rising generation of the Wudang Sect to be invited as martial arts instructors for the imperial family, or for lay disciples of the Nine Sects to be recommended as military officers.
It wasn't for nothing that those on the dark paths called the righteous sect martial artists ‘dogs of the authorities.’ They felt no shame at all. In fact, they all took as much pride in high official positions and splendid connections as they did in their peerless martial arts.
Except for the emperor, everyone in the Central Plains was a subordinate working under someone. If one had to live as a subordinate, it was better to be in a rich house. Could the opium merchant the inspector was chasing be the middle-aged martial artist I saw at the Wandering Swordsmen Inn?
The one who sold opium to the woodcutter. Knowing that speaking up would only bring trouble, I kept my mouth tightly shut and just listened. After talking his fill, Pyo Hol-deuk spouted the kind of nonsense that wandering swordsmen hated to hear the most.
“You must know the situation in the Western Village well, so please cooperate for the greater good.”
There was no mention of payment. He didn’t even ask for my opinion. It was simply a matter of course that I should help because it was the Murim Alliance’s business.
He didn’t seem to think that a mere house guest of the Underworld Information Clan would dare to refuse. The inspector wasn’t even a high-ranking official, yet his head worked just like the high and mighty, in whatever way was most convenient for him. Is this why Won Seo-gang and the other house guests ran away?
I was planning to read the situation and pull out, but then a thought struck me.
“I heard there’s a dark path faction in the Western Village called the Black Night Gang. The opium merchant will surely try to dispose of the opium. How about we start by investigating the Black Night Gang?”
It no longer mattered whether this suspicious martial artist before me was a real Murim Alliance Inspector or not. No matter how much the Black Night Gang dominated the Western Village, confronting a Murim Alliance Inspector would be a burden. That was enough.
How should I use this situation to get the information I wanted from the Black Night Gang? Soon, that was the only thought in my mind. The next afternoon, while I was eating at the Wind River Inn, a group of men carrying swords swarmed in.
Just by looking at them, you could tell they were insolent thugs from the dark paths who had never walked a righteous path a single day in their lives. Unfortunately, it seemed their business was with me. Their eyes glinted like stray dogs as they strode toward me.
“That’s far enough.”
As I scooped up some soup with my spoon, I grabbed the long blade that was leaning beside me.
“Come any closer, and I’ll cut you down.”
In the martial world, striking someone who invades your weapon’s range without even introducing themselves is called self-defense. The man in front flinched. Annoyed that he had stopped out of fear, he scowled and looked back.
“Bring him here.”
From among the thugs, the young woodcutter who had sold me firewood was dragged out. His wrists were tied with a rope, and one side of his face was swollen as if he had been beaten several times.
“Is that him?”
The woodcutter just bit his lip, even after seeing me. He neither nodded nor answered. A thug’s hand went up.
“This bastard hasn’t been beaten enough? Is it him or not?”
The damn sight of these sons of bitches running their mouths completely ruined my appetite. I put down my chopsticks and straightened my back.
“If you’re looking for the person who bought firewood from that man the other day, then that’s me.”
The thug’s mouth twisted into a vile sneer.
“Is that so? Then you’ll have to come with us. The higher-ups want to see you.”
“The Black Night Gang?”
“So your eyes aren’t useless after all.”
An idiot acting cocky, relying on his backing. Looking at his despicable, grinning face made me want to split his head open. What would happen if I fought them here?
The one yapping in the front seemed to have killed a few people, but he was still just a hopeless moron. The ones behind him were similar small fry. It seemed I could deal with them without much difficulty, but I had no desire to.
I’d lost count of how many times I’d gotten into fights or been ambushed in inns across the Central Plains, forced to draw my blade in the middle of a meal. There were many times I’d killed them all, wiped the blood from my face, and shoved the rest of my meal into my mouth.
Any dirty and gruesome act can become mundane when it’s what you do to survive. I had never drawn my blade in the Wind River Inn. Even when I knocked down Jang Ho-dal on my first day back, who had approached me looking for a fight, I hadn’t drawn my blade.
I had subdued him by striking his solar plexus with the end of my scabbard. It was because I didn’t want to see blood as soon as I returned to my hometown. That feeling hadn't changed.
Anywhere else was fine, but in this inn, I wanted to remain quiet. Gu-sam, the cook, and the innkeeper knew I was a martial artist, but they had never seen me kill anyone. That’s why we had become close.
If I shed blood here, I could never come to this inn again. All three of them would find it hard to even make eye contact with me, just like what happened in the slash-and-burn village when I dealt with the bandits.
I didn't want to lose this precious place where I could leisurely eat a meal and have everyday conversations with ordinary people. To protect this place, even if I had to use my blade, I had to do it outside, far away.
“Who in the Black Night Gang is looking for me?”
“You’ll find out when you get there. A very important person.”
“Is it Jeok Chu-yeong?”
The thug glared at me, his worthless face filled with murderous intent.
“Is the master your friend? If you speak his name so carelessly, your mouth will be torn open soon.”
“Then is it one of his direct subordinates?”
The three confidants who were said to have been with Jeok Chu-yeong since his time in Hunan. They might know what happened to the Western Village residents who were taken away in carriages seven years ago. The thug sneered mockingly.
“If you’re curious, come with us. It won’t do you any good to keep them waiting long.”
I was planning to visit the Black Night Gang anyway, so this was perfect timing. Whether it was to make a deal or to fight, I had to meet them at least once. Opportunities to see the faces of the higher-ups didn’t come easily.
But being dragged away like this would get me nowhere. I had to take the initiative and lead the situation. To do that, I needed something to catch them off guard.
Something so enticing that the master himself would have to stir from his seat and come out… What could it be? Mulling it over, I glanced around the inn.
My eyes fell on Gu-sam, who was hiding in the kitchen, peeking through a crack in the door. Even Gu-sam, who was more knowledgeable about rumors than anyone, didn’t know that a Murim Alliance Inspector had come to the Western Village. Did the Black Night Gang know?
Judging by their actions, they seemed completely clueless. They would surely freak out at the mention of the Murim Alliance.
“Gu-sam, bring me a brush and some paper.”
“Yes!”
Gu-sam quickly ran to the counter and brought back a thick ledger, a brush, and a bamboo tube filled with ink.
“This looks like a ledger. Is it okay to use this?”
“That’s the only paper we have.”
I tore out the last page of the ledger, spread it on the table, dipped the brush in ink, and simply wrote down my business. I tore out another sheet of paper. I folded it in half and used a grain of rice to seal it, making an envelope.
I put the letter inside and sealed it.
“Give this to your master or one of his three direct subordinates. If anyone else sees it, I will not respond.”
When I held out the letter, the thug glared at me with dagger-like eyes.
“Stop with the tricks and get up. You think we came here to get this crap? You want to be beaten to a pulp and dragged away?”
“Go ahead and try, if you can.”
I grabbed my long blade and glared at him. The thug bristled and gripped the hilt of his broadsword. The other thugs reflexively grabbed their swords as well.
In an instant, the atmosphere became murderous. It felt as if blades would fly at any moment, spraying blood and filling the air with screams and curses. But as I calmly looked at their thuggish faces, it seemed that wouldn’t happen.
Contrary to their fiercely contorted expressions, the thugs’ bodies were rigid with tension. They would never draw their swords. No, they didn’t want to.
They were all desperately avoiding it. I tossed the letter and took my hand off my long blade. I picked up my chopsticks and calmly resumed my meal.
The thug let out a deflated sigh, bent down, and picked up the letter.
“What did you write?”
“You’re better off not knowing. Go and deliver it quickly. If they find out you dawdled, you’ll get a few slaps. Don’t open it on the way. The higher-ups won’t like that.”
The thugs took the woodcutter and withdrew. I had to wait for an answer, so even after finishing my meal, I stayed at the inn, drinking tea. As the sun set and the evening glow descended, the dinner customers began to arrive.
They were all ordinary people, not carrying any weapons. They flinched upon seeing me and sat as far away as possible. Thinking I might be disturbing their business, I went outside.
I leaned against the wall and quietly looked up at the sky, which was fading into a blood-red sunset. One of the thugs from earlier came sauntering over. He stopped far beyond the reach of my long blade.
His tone was just as polite.
“The Daeju has agreed to meet you.”
“Where’s the master? Why a Daeju?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s at the Wandering Swordsmen Inn, right?”
“That’s right.”
As I pushed myself off the wall, the thug flinched and took a step back.
“Lead the way.”
The thug walked dozens of steps ahead of me, constantly glancing back. He seemed afraid I would cut him down. I walked with the sunset at my back.
I strode forward, stepping on the shadow of the past that lay stretched out before me. I remembered playing shadow tag with the neighborhood kids when I was young. The rule was simple.
The first person to step on someone else’s shadow wins. Shadows, no matter how much you stepped on them, showed no mark. If someone insisted you hadn't stepped on it, that was that, so even after running around all day, it was hard to determine a winner.
Back then, there were so many shadows in this neighborhood. Now, walking on the same hometown ground, there was only my own shadow, which had grown awkwardly large. Where did everyone go…
The sunset scattered, and the shadow, too, submerged into the twilight and disappeared. One by one, lights began to illuminate the darkness. As I left the bustling streets, I could see the Wandering Swordsmen Inn in the distance.
I headed towards it.