Chapter 55: Forced Choice (1)

The conversation with Jegal Yang-so flowed smoothly. Pleasantries were exchanged, compliments given. It was a calm and measured discussion, with questions and answers flowing naturally.

As the meeting drew to a close, Jegal Tan approached.

“Did it go well?” he asked.

“Yes, the meeting went well. But what’s this?”

His only complaint was that, unlike the previous families who had showered him with gifts, Jegal Yang-so had presented him with a single book.

“One Hundred and Eight Tales of the Murim?”

What was he supposed to do with this?

Jegal Tan smiled as Cho Un-hwi tilted his head in confusion.

“Haha, take a look inside.”

Cho Un-hwi flipped through the pages, finding tales of the Murim, ghost stories, and strange rumors.

“This might be an interesting read… Hmm?”

Tucked between the pages were small promissory notes.

“It’s a common practice in our clan. It’s considered more refined than handing someone a pouch of money.”

“Oh, I see.”

It was a novel approach.

“They’re bearer bonds issued by the Jegal Clan, so you can exchange them for cash anywhere.”

Bearer bonds.

They were essentially checks issued by the Jegal Clan, and they seemed quite useful.

And that wasn’t all.

“The book itself is a rare, leather-bound edition published by the Jegal Clan. It’s quite valuable to collectors.”

“I like the idea of slipping money into someone’s pocket, but this discreet method is also quite nice.”

“Officially, it’s just a gift, so there’s no risk of being accused of bribery.”

As expected of the Jegal Clan.

They were known for their intelligence, and their methods were both clever and elegant.

‘Maybe I should try this sometime.’

He made a mental note to remember this technique, just in case he ever had children of his own.

“Are you leaving now?” Jegal Tan asked.

“Yes, I just have to visit the Namgung Clan tomorrow, and then I’m done.”

“What about Namgung Yun-ho…?”

“Don’t worry about him.”

Cho Un-hwi smiled confidently.

“Please take good care of him. He’s a pitiful soul.”

“I’m not sure anyone is more pitiful than me… but alright.”

“Farewell.”

“Yes, I’ll put this to good use. See you later.”

He trudged away, relieved that the family meetings were almost over.

***

When he returned to the instructors’ office, it was late, but many instructors were still working diligently.

Yeo Mae-hong waved at him as he entered.

“Oh, Instructor Cho, it’s good to see you.”

“What happened? You look exhausted.”

Yeo Mae-hong replied with a weary sigh, as if she had spent her entire life’s luck on a single gacha pull, leaving only misfortune in its wake.

“The family meetings are tough. I have so many places to visit, and the elders are all so stiff and demanding.”

“That sounds rough.”

“It’s awful! You wouldn’t believe…”

She launched into a litany of complaints.

Some parents had berated her for their children’s poor performance, while others had questioned her teaching methods.

Some had even insulted her for being a nameless instructor with no reputation.

He asked if they at least offered her money and food, and she stared at him in disbelief.

“Do people actually do that?”

It seemed like it was a rare occurrence.

Instructor Jo Hyeon, who had been listening to their conversation, chimed in.

“My student is from a branch family of the Emei Sect, and a disciple from the main sect is here to observe my teaching methods.”

Yeo Mae-hong gasped.

“Wow, a disciple from the main sect? That must be stressful.”

“It is. And he’s so picky that I’m getting a stomachache.”

The two women continued to complain, comparing their woes as if they were competing in a misery Olympics.

Cho Un-hwi felt a headache coming on.

‘It sounds like they’re having a rough time.’

He was glad he only had four students.

As he was feeling relieved, Instructor Yang, a renowned martial artist and one of the few instructors in Dongcheon Hall with a nickname, approached him.

“Oh, Instructor Cho. It’s rare to see you here. What brings you today?”

“Well…”

Before he could answer, the person who had forced him to come to work entered the office.

“Instructor.”

“Oh, Yun-ho, you’re here.”

Namgung Yun-ho, his face pale but determined, bowed deeply.

“I apologize for the sudden request.”

“It’s alright. It’s annoying and troublesome, but I guess I have to do it since I’m getting paid.”

Cho Un-hwi pulled out the exit permit and signed it.

“So, what made you change your mind? I thought you were going to stay here and train.”

“Training is important, but I thought it would be disrespectful not to visit my elders after achieving some progress.”

“Etiquette is overrated.”

Why bother with manners when you come into this world with nothing and leave with nothing?

He was immediately bombarded with protests.

“What are you saying in front of a student?”

“Student Namgung, forget what Instructor Cho said. He might be a decent martial artist, but his life philosophy is worthless.”

“Yes, basic etiquette is important.”

They were ganging up on him.

He sighed and handed Namgung Yun-ho the exit permit.

Namgung Yun-ho accepted the permit and asked cautiously, “Instructor, I heard you were invited to my clan’s residence today?”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“Perhaps I’ll see you there.”

“Whatever.”

Namgung Yun-ho stepped back, muttering something under his breath with a desperate expression.

That nosy little brat must have told him.

“Well, I’ll be going now.”

He bowed politely and left.

Yeo Mae-hong tilted her head.

“He doesn’t look so good. Is something bothering him?”

“It’s puberty. He’s probably realized that he doesn’t have a black flame dragon sealed in his right hand.”

Yeo Mae-hong and Jo Hyeon scolded him for his flippant answer.

“Be more sincere.”

“I’m the most sincere person I know.”

He protested, but no one agreed with him. He felt a little hurt.

***

He folded his neatly ironed uniform and put it away.

Then, he folded his tattered training clothes, his worn-out brush and ink stick, and his dog-eared Shinmu Sword Technique manual.

Finally, he packed the flask he used to collect spring water.

“Is there anything else?”

He couldn’t think of anything.

These few items, which fit into a small bundle, were all he had accumulated in five years.

They were old and worn, but they were familiar and comfortable.

“That’s it.”

He changed out of his Shinmu Academy uniform and into his only set of civilian clothes.

“I’m wearing this again.”

He had worn these clothes to the Hao Clan’s brothel. He hadn’t expected to be wearing them again so soon.

He smiled wryly and put on the clothes, adjusting the sleeves.

They were his best clothes, but they still felt old and worn.

“Shall we go?”

He slung the bundle over his shoulder and looked around his room.

The small, dark room where he had spent so many years.

He closed his eyes, and memories flooded his mind.

“Farewell. I’ll see you again.”

He opened the door and stepped out, leaving behind the fading warmth and the scent of dust.

***

“I never thought I’d leave the academy.”

Everything felt new and strange.

The training ground, which he had rarely visited.

The shadowy path along the fence, where he had always walked to avoid attention.

The mess hall, where he had always waited until everyone else had left before going to eat.

And the secluded training ground on the outskirts of the academy, which had become his sanctuary.

He walked through the empty grounds, his heart filled with a strange mixture of sadness and relief.

He climbed to the spring and filled his flask with water.

He walked back down the path, his mind racing.

“Student Namgung, are you leaving?”

“Yes, Instructor Jang.”

“Haha, have a good trip. You’re returning home in glory.”

Returning home in glory.

He exchanged greetings with a few instructors he barely knew, then looked at the towering gate, his mind drifting back to the past.

It had been so long since he had entered the academy.

‘I was so hopeful back then.’

He couldn’t remember exactly how he had felt. The painful memories had overshadowed the good ones.

He adjusted his sword hilt and looked up at the gate.

“Student Namgung, you’re free to go.”

The gatekeeper checked his exit permit and returned his badge.

“Thank you.”

“Enjoy your break.”

He wasn’t sure if he would be able to enjoy it.

He took one last look at the familiar scenery, then said, “I’ll be back.”

***

His instructor had said…

– The outside world is harsh and unforgiving.

He agreed.

People lived both inside and outside the academy, but the outside world felt much colder and more hostile.

“It’s so clean.”

The streets were wide enough for several carriages to pass side by side, and they were lined with expensive houses and villas.

It was a clean and luxurious neighborhood.

‘This is… uncomfortable.’

Namgung Yun-ho, who had once belonged to this world, was now more accustomed to his small, dusty room and the scent of wood.

He took a few sips of water from his flask.

The familiar taste calmed him down.

“Ahh, that’s better.”

He saw the Namgung Clan’s flag and the Heavenly Spear Clan’s flag fluttering in the distance.

He quickened his pace.

***

There was no grand welcome.

The heavy wooden gate creaked open, and he saw a man standing in the courtyard.

“You’re here.”

The man, his arms crossed, his expression stern, was his uncle, Namgung Il-jun.

The Southern Heaven Sword. As befitting a master swordsman, his aura was sharp and intimidating.

“You’re late.”

“I had some things to prepare.”

“Is that all you’re bringing?”

“I brought everything I could.”

“I hope you’ve sorted out your thoughts.”

“I haven’t quite managed to do that yet.”

“Tsk.”

His uncle was clearly displeased.

“Well, it doesn’t matter.”

Was he confident that he could change his nephew’s mind?

Of course he was.

‘He’s always been so cold and calculating.’

Namgung Yun-ho had no intention of complying, but his uncle had an unexpected move.

“I’ve summoned Yong-ho.”

“My brother?”

“He was overjoyed to hear that you were coming home.”

“…”

“You’ve been living among those children in Dongcheon Hall for so long that you’ve lost touch with reality. I thought seeing Yong-ho might help you come to your senses.”

He knew exactly what his uncle was up to.

“It’s been a while.”

He pretended not to understand.