Chapter 16: Haomen (2)

Cheongwoon has a nasty personality.

How nasty, you ask? 

Once he’s been wronged, he won’t be satisfied until he’s repaid it tenfold.

Cheongwoon’s personality wasn’t always this rotten.

If you were to examine his innate disposition, it actually leaned toward kindness.

One must abide by the law.

One must not harm others.

The weak must be protected, and the strong must bear responsibility.

These are basic principles.

Fundamental moral values ingrained in any ordinary modern person.

But it turned out these weren’t universal truths.

At least not in this land of Central plain.

A completely unfamiliar world, a body he’d never seen or heard of— a boy’s body— reborn into the life of an orphan, an experience he’d never even imagined in his past life.

It was anything but easy.

No parents meant being scorned.

No money meant being ignored.

No strength meant being oppressed.

The first thing Cheongwoon ever stole was food.

After days of starvation, his stomach clinging to his back, he did whatever it took to survive.

But apparently, he wasn’t the only one dying of hunger.

Some beggar passing by saw the food in his hands and, in a frenzy, picked up a rock and lunged at him, demanding he hand it over.

That was the first time he’d ever fought so desperately.

Driven by sheer rage, he screamed until his throat burned, his skin tore against the jagged edge of the rock, and for the first time, he wished he could kill someone.

So he did.

To live. 

To avoid death. 

Because he was starving.

Back then, he had no martial arts.

He just strangled the bastard with a fishing line while taking hits from the rock.

After killing him, before others could come, he shoved the stolen food into his mouth.

And for some reason, it was so pitiful— the fact that he had actually killed a person— that he bawled like a child.

That was when he learned that food mixed with tears tasted salty. 

Looking back now, it’s almost laughable.

If he hadn’t been killed, he would’ve died. 

So if the tables were turned, would that bastard have cried like I did over killing someone?

We were all just bottom-feeders anyway.

Who was anyone to offer cheap pity?

The weak are meat; the strong eat.

Survival of the fittest.

That was the turning point.

The moment Cheongwoon’s personality took a sharp turn for the worse.

****

Pababat—!

Masked men lurking in the shadows suddenly leaped out, pointing their sword tips at Cheongun.

“Heh heh, well, well. These little brats have no fear. How dare you step foot here when there’s a bounty on your heads?”

Jeom Soi giggled as he looked at Cheongun.

In his mind, he had already envisioned beheading Cheongun and cashing in the hefty bounty.

Gyeonghwa Banjeom was a black market where murder-for-hire was rampant—a place even the Haomen kept under strict surveillance.

They paid exorbitant protection fees to the Cheonryong Pyo Agency, which had six peak-level assassins stationed there at all times.

Considering how rare and highly valued peak-level martial artists were in the Murim, the sheer scale of this investment spoke volumes.

Besides, all they needed was the head, right?

That meant they could do whatever they wanted with the rest of the body!

‘Both of them are quite… exquisitely built.’

Their faces were handsome, their bodies toned—pleasing to the eye.

He could carve the flesh from their bodies while they were still alive and sell it off, torturing them in every imaginable way until their last breath.

How excruciating would that be?

The mere thought sent shivers down his spine.

Trashy, yet undeniably well-thought-out plans.

But there was one thing Jeom Soi had overlooked.

While martial artists were broadly categorized into first-rate, peak-level, and so on, even those at the same level varied vastly in strength depending on their internal energy, purity, martial arts techniques, and experience.

This disparity became especially pronounced after reaching the peak level.

Beyond that, advancing further wasn’t just about accumulating internal energy— it required a kind of enlightenment.

Cheongun tore into the greasy chicken with his bare hands, stuffing it into his mouth.

“Slurp, slurp. Yeah, sure.”

“Judging by how Jeom Soi is acting, this must be a black market.”

Cheongun nodded at Namgung Yul’s words.

In a black market, suddenly drawing a sword meant one of two things:

Either the customer was causing trouble, or someone had placed a hefty bounty on their heads.

Cheongun tilted his head in confusion.

“Are we the troublemakers?”

“A customer who spends a lot of money can’t be the troublemaker.”

“So that means… there’s a bounty on our heads?”

“Hmm.”

Namgung Yul pondered.

As Cheongun said, there was no other explanation.

“Probably?”

Cheongun was baffled.

Wait, what the hell?

A bounty on my head?!

I haven’t lived a perfectly righteous life, but compared to other scumbags, I’ve been pretty damn decent!

The fact that the system isn’t reacting means it’s not the Demon Cult’s doing.

Damn it, if there had to be a bounty, it should’ve been from the Demon Cult!

“Well, I kinda get the gist of it now.”

Namgung Yul quickly whispered his thoughts.

Near the Yangtze River, five assassins had tried to kill Namgung Yul, and Cheongun happened to be there, slaughtering them all in exchange for gold.

Then, at an inn where they stopped to eat quietly, some arrogant martial artists with celebrity syndrome showed up, demanding they clear the way— so they took their clothes and money as “compensation.”

After hearing the explanation, Cheongun nodded as if he finally remembered.

Jeom Soi, who had been watching silently, let out a chilling laugh.

“Do you understand the situation now?”

“Roughly.”

“Then how about putting down your sword and begging for your lives?”

At those words, Cheongun clicked his tongue.

“Thanks for the offer, but can’t you see I’m eating? This is why I say the Haomen is no good. Bottom-feeders like you gather and call it an organization.”

“What?”

“At least the beggars of the Gaebang know their place and act like beggars, so they get treated as a legitimate faction. But what about those Hao Clan bastards? They’re nothing but bottom-feeding gutter trash, yet they act like they’re something special, crawling their way up. That’s why, even though they’re part of the same underworld, they’re treated as a heresy and looked down on compared to the Gaebang.”

Jeom Soi’s eyebrow twitched.

That damn bastard’s every word was hitting all the right buttons to piss him off.

The fact that none of it was wrong only made him angrier.

“And how uneducated do you have to be to mess with someone while they’re eating? Don’t you know even dogs don’t get bothered while they eat? Ah, maybe you’re worse than dogs, so you don’t know? If that’s the case, I’ll accept it. Though, you do look more like a rat bastard.”

“…You’d better be ready if you wag that tongue one more time.”

“Honestly, you Hao Clan types always end your sentences with that damn ‘~da-yo,’ ‘~da-yo.’ Ugh, hey, Jeom Soi! Make me a cup of carbonara with an energy stone infusion!”

“???”

Jeom Soi blinked in confusion.

He had no idea what that meant.

But that tone, that attitude, that damn expression— everything about it was infuriating.

At the same time, Cheongun flicked his finger and sent a silver coin flying toward Jeom Soi.

“Here. A silver coin as a tip.”

Plink!

“You fucking bastard!!”

Jeom Soi roared, veins bulging in his fury.

“Kill them all!!”

At his command, one of the men who had been pointing his sword lunged at Cheongun.

Cheongun swiftly drew his own sword and slashed horizontally and vertically.

It might have looked like a wild swing, but the essence of a refined swordsmanship was hidden within.

It was the ‘Midnight Flash Thousand Cuts’— a technique he had mastered after countless beatings from his master.

Clang- clang- clang—!

The sound of steel grinding against steel rang out sharply.

As expected of a master, just the clash of their blades sent sparks flying.

Swish!

Immediately after, sword strikes imbued with martial energy came flying one after another.

But Cheongun had already reached a transcendent level of evasion after being one-sidedly beaten down in the Jinmu Castle.

While still locked in the sword clash, he twisted his entire body like a mollusk, narrowly dodging every strike by a hair’s breadth.

But it didn’t end there.

Whooosh—!

As soon as he blocked one, a trident-like split blade shot toward his neck like lightning.

Three-pronged afterimages of the sword.

And each one carried martial energy.

Cheongun tilted his blade slightly, deflecting the incoming sword and sending it sliding off.

At the same time, he stepped forward, planting his foot firmly and launching himself into the air.

Then, a shadowy figure crouched on the ground pulled at invisible silver threads woven between its fingers.

Flowing Shadow Silk Blade Hand!

Swish- swish- swish!

The silver threads, reinforced with inner energy, shot out in dozens of strands, slicing through the air.

Before anyone realized it, the threads had spread like a net, wrapping around Cheongun and attempting to slice him apart—

Fwoosh!

Cheongun spun the coat draped over his shoulders like a cloak, wrapping it around himself as he twisted in midair.

As he spun, the inner energy-infused fabric deflected every single incoming thread.

There were so many of them—

“!!!”

Namgung Yul and the masked men simultaneously raised their swords, deflecting the incoming silver blades.

Thud!

As Cheongun landed, he immediately surged his internal energy.

Currently, Cheongun’s dantian was overflowing with natural energy due to the imprisoned demons (Main) within the golden jade.

Though his realm was only at its peak, the sheer intensity of his aura could rival that of a transcendent master.

A suffocating killing intent pressed down on everyone within the room.

Through sheer will, his entire body emitted purified natural energy like steam. 

Naturally, the martial artists with heightened energy senses gulped in panic, taken aback.

‘What is this?’

Jeom Soi inwardly denied it.

This kid clearly wasn’t even twenty.

By energy sense alone, his realm was at its peak.

But how could he suddenly emit such profound energy?

‘…He’s a master.’

Jeom Soi’s judgment was swift.

Capturing him unscathed was impossible.

Even if it were possible, the restaurant would be destroyed, and at least half of the hired martial artists would die.

No— if luck was bad, they might all perish.

For all he knew, this might still be the kid holding back.

“Young hero!”

“Hmm?”

“This Jeom Soi sincerely apologizes!”

Cheongun motioned for him to continue with a tilt of his chin.

“I am the bloody monument of the Haomen. The martial artists here are escort guards sent by the Tianlong Escort Bureau! This place is a black site specially managed by the Haomen!”

“Hmm.”

“Even if I had two mouths, I’d have no excuses, but if you show mercy here, we will compensate you handsomely!”

The gist of his words was simple.

We’re sorry for picking a fight— we’ll make it up to you, so let’s stop here!

“The Haomen and the Tianlong Escort Bureau… Tch, damn, what a pain.”

Cheongun clicked his tongue in annoyance.

Jeom Soi inwardly cheered.

That’s right! It’s a huge pain, so if you don’t want things to get messy, just back off now!

“Hmm.”

Cheongun stroked his chin, seemingly deep in thought.

“Ha, guess there’s no choice?”

It looked like he had made a decision.

Jeom Soi swallowed a sigh of relief.

If he didn’t want to make enemies of two major factions, the answer was obvious.

But Cheongun’s choice was different.

“Guess I’ll just have to wipe you all out.”

“???”

Ah.

So that’s an option too.