Chapter 88: Observation Class (5)

He had boasted confidently, but…

“See? I’ll take you to the best inn in the area.”

The pedestrian (played by a volunteer) twitched at Tang Gan’s words.

After a long silence, he replied in a monotone, “Young Master, I… don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“What? Can’t you see the Tang Clan emblem? Are you messing with me?”

“Young Master, I… don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“He doesn’t understand… ow!”

*Thwack!*

Tang Gan clutched the back of his head and jumped up and down.

Cho Un-hwi said, looking at him with pity, “You’re the one who doesn’t understand. What were you thinking, showing him the clan emblem?”

Tang Gan protested, “This always works at the Tang Clan fortress.”

“You just show them the Sichuan Tang Clan emblem and they give you everything for free?”

“Of course!”

“Ugh.”

Cho Un-hwi slapped Tang Gan on the back.

“Ow! Ow! Why are you hitting me?”

“You idiot, the Tang Clan fortress is where people with the Tang surname live. Of course they recognize the Tang Clan emblem. But this is Kaifeng Prefecture in Henan Province.”

“The Sichuan Tang Clan’s name is known throughout the land.”

He was hopeless.

‘I’m glad I taught my students well.’

They could even find good restaurants in a place where the demonic sects were rampant.

These guys, on the other hand, were useless.

Cho Un-hwi, already feeling exhausted, growled at his new students, “Your guards took care of everything? The inn appeared magically while you were riding in a carriage? Cut the crap and follow me.”

His students, their pride wounded, reluctantly followed him.

***

Even finding an inn was a struggle.

“So… are there… any inns… that cater to… outsiders… in this area?”

He had to teach them how to speak politely instead of using their usual commanding tone.

“That place seems crowded.”

He gave them some tips on how to choose a suitable inn from the ones they had been recommended.

There was some confusion along the way.

“Iron coins? Isn’t money always made of silver or gold?”

“I’ve never seen coins made of iron before.”

“Are they fake?”

He even had to explain the difference between iron coins and silver coins.

They claimed that they had never seen iron coins because they were used to spending lavishly.

They finally managed to find a decent inn.

It had taken them half an hour.

***

“Ugh, I’m so frustrated.”

Cho Un-hwi gulped down water as Namgung Yun-ho asked Jegal Tan cautiously, “Tan, are they unusually ignorant? Or am I the strange one?”

“Haha, you seem surprised.”

Jegal Tan, surprisingly, seemed to think it was normal.

“They’re not half-assed like us, so it can’t be helped.”

“Half-assed?”

“They’re the chosen geniuses of their families, the ones who receive their families’ full support.”

Jegal Tan refilled his cup and continued, “They’ve been pampered and sheltered their entire lives. They’ve probably never had to do anything for themselves. I doubt they’ve even bought a snack with their own money.”

“…I see.”

“Think about your younger brother.”

“…Now that I think about it, he’s never gone anywhere or done anything on his own.”

“He’s the greatest genius the Namgung Clan has seen in a century. They probably wouldn’t let him lift a finger. They’ve given him everything he needs to focus on his training. So if you threw him into a market, he wouldn’t even know how to buy anything. He always has his guards with him, carrying his pouch of gold. I doubt he even has a concept of money.”

“No way, it can’t be that bad.”

“It might be even worse. The geniuses of the Nine Sects are even more sheltered.”

Mo Yong So-hye, who had been sipping her water, suddenly spat it out.

“There are people who are even worse?!”

“It’s a true story…”

The stories that followed were quite horrifying.

There was a story about a student who had no idea how to pay and just kept handing out silver ingots, becoming a target for all the merchants.

There was a story about a student who was secretly tracking a demonic practitioner and blew his cover because he complained about the bed.

And there was even a story about a Shaolin Temple student who refused to pay and offered to chant sutras instead, starting a fight.

Jegal Tan glanced at a group of students who were learning how to count coins, and Cho Un-hwi saw the so-called top students struggling to count iron coins.

They might have good grades, but they were clueless about the real world.

“This is unbelievable.”

“Not everyone is like that. Most of them are actually quite worldly.”

“So the problem is the chosen few.”

“The more talented they are, the more they’re pampered and encouraged to focus solely on martial arts.”

Baek Ri-seol pushed up the tip of her nose with her index finger.

“Why did this happen?”

“I think I know.”

He had once been an enemy of the Murim Alliance, so he knew their biggest weakness.

“It’s because of their obsession with martial arts. And the fact that there haven’t been any real wars for decades.”

“…You’re right. The number of powerful experts has become more important than the number of heroes who criticize the Murim.”

The Demonic Cult, which had once threatened the world, was now divided into two factions, the Demonic Heavenly Sect and the Blood Cult, and the demonic sects, which had constantly clashed with each other, were now united under the Iron Thread Alliance.

And the Murim Alliance?

Under the powerful leadership of the Alliance Leader, infighting was strictly forbidden, and the hierarchy was firmly established.

With the power structure solidified, large-scale battles were rare.

Conflicts were resolved through negotiations between factions, rather than through fighting.

They had robbed the martial artists, who existed to fight, of their opportunity to adapt to the wild.

As a result, they had created a generation of ignorant and illogical people with high martial arts skills but no common sense.

It was a pathetic state of affairs.

‘Well, it’s not my problem.’

He was no longer a threat to the Murim Alliance. He was just a lowly instructor struggling to make ends meet.

***

“Ahem, sorry about that.”

Eon Ho-seung, regaining his composure, pulled out a chair and said, “This is my first time in a place like this.”

“Me too. I can’t believe people aren’t afraid to sit in a place with such a low ceiling.”

“They’re putting chopsticks on the table without a tablecloth? How unsanitary.”

He silenced the twins’ complaints and said, “Let’s introduce ourselves first.”

He tapped the table with his index finger.

“I’m Cho Un-hwi. As you know, I’m a temporary instructor. I’m twenty-five years old, a single bachelor of marital age.”

As the others introduced themselves…

“Huh? You’re a Namgung?”

Im So-jeong’s sleepy eyes widened slightly.

Namgung Yun-ho replied nonchalantly, “I’m no longer associated with the Namgung Clan.”

“Well, I guess there’s a story there.”

After they finished introducing themselves, Eon Ho-seung was the first to speak.

“I’m Eon Ho-seung of the Jinju Eon Clan. My father is the current Clan Leader.”

As Jegal Tan had said, he was a pure-blooded rich kid.

“I’m Jeok So-il.”

“I’m Jeok So-i.”

“I’m Tang Gan.”

Finally, everyone’s eyes turned to the sleepy-eyed Im So-jeong.

She greeted them with a slight nod.

“I’m Im So-jeong. I’m from Hainan Island.”

Her voice was weak.

She looked like she wanted to fall asleep on the table.

Her droopy eyes were heavy with sleep.

“My hobby is sleeping. My specialty is sleeping for a long time.”

“Oh, we’re similar.”

Baek Ri-seol reacted sensitively.

“Instructor, no flirting. Especially not in front of the person you’re interested in.”

What was she talking about?

He glanced at Im So-jeong, and her aura, which had been faint and indistinct, suddenly felt more pronounced.

“Hmm.”

“Is something wrong?”

Im So-jeong frowned, sensing his gaze.

“You’re not using the Thirteen Southern Sea Swords.”

“…?”

“That sticky, lingering energy… it’s strangely familiar…”

Cho Un-hwi paused, tilting his head.

“Is it… the Sun and Moon… something?”

“!”

For the first time, the sleepiness vanished from Im So-jeong’s eyes.

“…How did you know?”

“Are you awake now?”

“The Sun and Moon…”

Im So-jeong lowered her voice, conscious of the other students’ gazes.

“…Its existence is supposed to be a secret.”

“You shouldn’t doze off when your instructor is talking. Let’s be more careful in the future.”

“…”

Im So-jeong stared at him intently.

Eon Ho-seung was surprised.

‘Im So-jeong is actually reacting to something?’

Im So-jeong was usually indifferent and rarely showed any emotion.

This was the first time he had seen her so surprised, so flustered.

‘Thirteen Southern Sea Swords? That’s the signature technique of the Hainan Sword Sect, the Sword Pavilion, known for their rough, wave-like swordsmanship.’

But he had never heard of a technique that started with “Sun and Moon.”

‘There’s something going on here.’

But the atmosphere was too tense for him to ask.

He was wary of the foul-mouthed instructor.

“…”

The waiter (played by an instructor) broke the awkward silence.

“Here’s your delicious beef clear soup.”

He placed the bowls on the table and left. Cho Un-hwi was already focused on his food.

“Are you alright?”

Namgung Yun-ho asked, and Cho Un-hwi nodded vigorously.

“Just a minute.”

*Slurp.*

He slurped down his soup, then threw down his chopsticks.

“Damn it.”

What was wrong now?

“This is too damn delicious!”

“…Is there something wrong with it being delicious?”

“Yes! The Hongmi Inn’s clear soup I know isn’t this fancy.”

What did he want them to do?

Cho Un-hwi picked up his chopsticks again and grumbled, “What the hell! They put expensive beef ribs in the soup?!”

“Did a peak-level master hand-pull these noodles? Why are they so chewy?”

“Seafood? What kind of madman puts abalone in a three iron coin bowl of noodles?!”

“The Hongmi Inn’s clear soup is supposed to be for the common people!”

“Don’t underestimate the taste of the common people!”

What was he talking about?

The students buried their heads in their bowls, trying to ignore him as he continued to grumble and devour his food with lightning-fast chopsticks.

‘This is so embarrassing.’

They pretended not to know him.

The commotion finally ended when Cho Un-hwi finished his soup and wrote down his feedback.

– Bring back the taste of the common people.

***

“Did you really have to do that?”

“You were being so petty.”

Cho Un-hwi, ignoring Namgung Yun-ho and Mo Yong So-hye’s criticism, said, “The Hongmi Inn’s clear soup is known for its rough, uneven noodles.”

He then launched into a lecture about how the owner would use leftover flour from the previous day if he was hungover, how the noodles were chewiest when his wife was angry at him, and other useless trivia.

Mo Yong So-hye asked, “Have you been to Kaifeng Prefecture?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“You think so? Either you went or you didn’t.”

“Tsk, tsk, kids these days.”

He wagged his finger.

“Adults often say they’ve been somewhere when they haven’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“How old do I have to be to understand such useless things?”

“Maybe halfway up the ladder of adulthood?”

As he was rambling, Namgung Yun-ho returned with a bag full of spices.

“Instructor, it’s time.”

“Huh? Already?”

Jegal Tan looked at the five students and said, “It seems they’re moving to the surprise lesson location.”

“Oh, you’re right.”

As Jegal Tan had said, the observers, who had been wandering around freely, were now gathering in one area.

“We’ll go there when the bell rings.”

A moment later…

*Clang! Clang!*

The sound of a bell, amplified by internal energy, echoed through the air, followed by a booming voice.

“Come on, observers! Gather around!”

The instructor who had been playing the role of a blacksmith threw down his towel and shouted,

“Today’s surprise scenario is ‘Your Comrade Is Actually a Demonic Practitioner’!”

What a strangely relatable scenario.