Chapter 77: The Sung Family (1)

Even the mighty Heavenly Slaughter Star had her weaknesses.

Not the kind where a severed neck or a pierced heart would kill her—those were obvious.

Her true weakness lied in her skill set.

Surprisingly, she wasn’t very proficient in stealth and infiltration techniques.

— I have skills just a bit below a first-class assassin.

She admitted before we left Chilgok County.

So why did she get caught during the Gapsu Trading Company incident?

When I pressed her with a questioning look, Sohee averted her gaze and corrected herself.

— …Actually, second-class level.

Is she really the greatest assassin in this Murim Dating Sim?

A ninja outfit and subpar stealth skills?

I couldn’t hide my disbelief as I looked at her.

— But my martial arts are still top-tier.

She added defensively, catching my incredulous expression.

Perhaps the “assassin” title didn’t stem from sneaking in and out undetected, but from killing everyone who could witness the act.

After all, killing every witness still technically counted as “stealth”.

According to Sohee, her stealth skills had never felt insufficient.

She could complete assassinations and escape without being caught—at least until now.

The problem is that this time she was caught for the first time in her life.

Once something happened one time, it was bound to happen a second.

While she might avoid being caught if she was careful, and even if discovered, she could fight her way out, the real issue was me.

If she got caught, I might not survive the fallout.

I recalled our conversation back in Chilgok.

— To infiltrate the lord’s quarters, it’s best to stay in the inner courtyard.

— The inner courtyard? They wouldn’t let a mere Maedamja, let alone a barbarian, stay there.

— Even if we’re placed in the outer courtyard, I’ll make it work… I’ll just rely on my stealth.

— Why take the risk? I’ll find a way to get us into the inner courtyard.

— How?

— I have a plan. Just trust me.

Typically, a manor’s inner courtyard was reserved for family members, senior-level martial artists, and high-ranking staff.

Being invited to stay there as a guest meant receiving VVIP treatment.

No wonder Sohee had almost given up on the idea.

I would love just to approach Sung Sehui and say, “You hired us to deal with your uncle, right? Help us out.”

But Sohee said the Death Pavilion never revealed the client’s identity to the assassin.

Even if the young master wanted to help, he couldn’t openly assist.

Doing so would expose the assassination plot, especially if it was an insider job.

As for placing an entertainer—a barbarian, no less—in the inner courtyard?

Unthinkable.

At least, under normal circumstances.

I just need to charm the young master into having me invited as an esteemed guest.

If I had to follow the rules were normal, I just had to make sure I wasn’t a normal guest.

“This way, please.”

Following the servant, I stepped into the Sung family manor.

The servant sent by Sung Sehui led me past the outer courtyard and into a room within the inner courtyard.

“So, it really is the Joseon Maedamja!”

Sung Sehui greeted me with a look of complete surprise as if he hadn’t expected my visit.

“It’s been a few days,” I replied, wearing a smile as I greeted him.

Sung Sehui, still bewildered, gestured for me to take a seat.

“How did you come to be here? I distinctly remember you declining my invitation,” he asked, his expression betraying his inability to mask his thoughts.

Since when was that an invitation? It was a scam.

He had invited me to provoke his uncle—a plot that, had I been ignorant of, might have ended in disaster.

He clearly hadn’t expected me to walk back into this trap voluntarily.

To ensure my safety here, I need to be treated as an honored guest, not some expendable performer.

Coming back simply for money would be a terrible move.

That would land me in the outer courtyard at best, performing for a few coins before being dismissed.

I had to be more than just someone chasing after coins. I had to be a man with a grand purpose.

“…After we parted, I did some reflecting,” I began, taking a sip of tea to set a serious tone.

Time to build some common ground.

“Reflecting? About what?”

“About my time living as a barbarian in this land. The countless moments of oppression I endured. Even when I was being mercilessly beaten by local thugs, no one extended a helping hand.”

I rolled up my sleeves, gazing at the scars on my arms as though reliving painful memories of injustice.

“In the Central Plains, people are slow to offer a helping hand to the weak—even if that person was once the rightful heir of a prestigious family,” Sung Sehui said, clearly relating to my story.

Good.

We’re forming a connection.

“I thought I would be different in such situations. But as soon as I got a taste of comfort, I found myself becoming just as selfish. I refused your call for help to preserve my safety.”

“…It’s human nature to prioritize one’s safety. Only those who rise above that are truly admirable,” Sung Sehui said, his expression softening with an air of understanding.

But I couldn’t let it end there.

If I concluded my explanation here, it would inspire gratitude but not enough to achieve my goal.

I needed a twist.

“Yes. And yet, you didn’t tell me the whole truth,” I said, my tone sharpening as I directed an accusatory look at him.

With just the right amount of empathy established, it was time to highlight his guilt.

“You’re not a blameless victim, nor are you entirely noble. You deceived me.”

“…I have no excuse for that,” he admitted, avoiding my gaze in shame.

“If I hadn’t uncovered the truth, I might have happily accepted your invitation, believing it an honor to perform at your manor—never realizing I was walking into a slaughterhouse.”

“…”

Sung Sehui, clearly at a loss for words, remained silent.

“You sought to escape your predicament by dragging someone else into it. How are you any different from those who unjustly claimed your family’s seat?”

Though he had initially admitted his wrongdoing, pushing further like this was bound to ignite a defensive reaction.

After all, humans often reacted to prolonged criticism with irritation—even when they were in the wrong.

Especially someone like him, a young master of privilege.

“Did you come here to help, or just to scold me?” he snapped, his expression turning cold.

Exactly the reaction I anticipated.

“To help,” I replied, calmly taking another sip of tea and meeting his anger with unwavering composure.

Who do you think you’re snapping at?

“Then why—”

“Because you need to understand something,” I interrupted.

“What is it?”

“I didn’t come here because you’re a noble, nor because you’re a good person.”

“…Then why?”

“I came because I understand the pain of being abandoned in the face of injustice. Because I see that, while you’re not entirely virtuous, you’re also not evil. I understand your suffering—and the risks I’m about to take.”

This time, I fixed a resolute gaze directly upon him.

I wanted him to see that I had come here knowing everything, willingly putting myself on the line.

“All… all of this, just for that reason?” His voice wavered, his eyes trembling as if my words had struck a chord.

Almost there.

“I want to help you. I will expose your uncle and stepmother’s treachery for all to see. And I will stake my life to do it,” I spoke with the conviction of a righteous hero, the kind one would naturally find in a Murim tale.

A mere barbarian Maedamja, risking his life not for money but out of a deep sense of justice.

It’s a classic approach, but in a martial arts world, it works perfectly.

“Thank you… Truly, thank you,” Sung Sehui said, falling to his knees with tears welling up in his eyes.

Perfect.

That was easier than I expected.

“Please rise. We can’t afford to waste any time preparing for what’s to come,” I said, extending my hand to help him up.

“How could I ever repay such kindness from someone as noble as you?” he murmured, still overwhelmed.

“Allow me to stay in the inner courtyard. That’s enough. Prepare thoroughly. And when you reclaim your family’s honor, remember this day—and extend the same justice to others,” I said, my tone as solemn as ever.

“If I managed to reclaim my right, I will never forget this day,” he vowed, clasping my hands with both of his as gratitude poured from his gaze.

“Honored guest, please follow me to the inner courtyard.”

Sung Sehui, moved by my impassioned display, decided to host me as an esteemed guest in the inner courtyard of the Sung family manor.

“My wife is waiting at the inn.”

“Your wife?”

“The woman who was with me when we first met is my wife.”

“Ah, I thought it was unusual for a woman to act as a bodyguard. So she is your wife.”

“I was too ashamed to introduce her then, being a husband who relies on his wife for protection.”

I lowered my head slightly, as though embarrassed by my unmanly behavior.

“I see. I’ll have a servant bring her here.”

“Thank you.” Sung Sehui instructed a servant to fetch Sohee.

I hope Sohee can play the role of my wife convincingly.

I, with my vast experience as a young master, producer, commander, teacher, and now a husband, could manage this seamlessly.

But Sohee, a beginner in such roles, might struggle.

— I’ll address you as my wife when we arrive at the Sung manor.

— …Wife?

— Do you dislike it?

— No, I… it’s fine.

— How will you address me?

— Should I call you Sanggong?¹

— Sanggong… that’s too much like a native from the Central Plains.

Perhaps because the term reminded me of someone, I suggested something else.

— Any other ideas?

— I can’t think of anything…

— Then how about Seobang-nim? It’s a distinctly Joseon-style term for a husband.

—…Seobang-nim?

— It’s authentic and, if you slip up with honorifics, you can blame it on being a Joseon native.

Sohee repeated Seobang-nim a few times, gazing at me as though testing how it felt on her tongue. Finally, she nodded.

“Sir, I’ve brought your guest.”

The servant’s voice snapped me out of my reminiscing as Sohee entered the room.

“Allow me to reintroduce her—this is my wife.”

“I see. I didn’t have the chance to greet her properly the other day, thinking she was just your guard. Madam, you have an admirable husband,” Sung Sehui said warmly.

“…”

Sohee’s face turned slightly red, her lips moving as though to respond, but no words came out.

“Sohee?”

“M-my S-Seobang… nim is a wonderful person,” she stammered.

Why is she acting like a buffering computer?

Her flushed face and awkward delivery made it clear she felt uneasy about calling me Seobang-nim.

Perhaps it felt too strange for someone who wasn’t really her husband.

“Haha, my wife is a bit shy and not very talkative.”

“Hahaha, I see. But I must say, it’s fascinating that Joseon natives address their husbands as ‘Seobang’.”

“Yes, we’ve become accustomed to speaking Central Plains dialects, but traditional terms like Seobang-nim still feel natural to us.”

“I see. Well then, now that your wife is here, let me personally show you to your accommodations in the inner courtyard.”

Without a trace of suspicion, Sung Sehui began leading us to our lodging.

“The garden is stunning,” I remarked.

“It’s beautiful, but the one further in is even more breathtaking. Unfortunately, I can’t show it to you since that area has been completely taken over by Sung Jiru’s group,” he said with a bitter expression.

“This is already lovely enough,” I reassured him.

The inner courtyard was more than adequate.

Staying too close might invite suspicion about our intentions.

As we walked toward the lodging, raised voices caught our attention.

“That’s not allowed!”

“It’s my choice!”

The sounds of an argument grew louder, drawing nearer.

“Y-Young Lady!”

From the opposite side of the garden, two figures appeared—a feisty young lady and what seemed to be her attendant.

I turned to look, curious about the commotion, and was greeted by an unexpected sight.

Why are you here?

The person standing before me was someone I recognized.