Chapter 67: Robbing the Robbers (1)

“What do you see over there?”

Namgung Yun-ho racked his brains, looking at the wooden sign that read “Black Tiger Gang.”

“The Black Tiger Gang… It seems to be the dominant faction in this area.”

“Good observation. Why do you think so?”

“First, the sign is quite ornate, as if they’re flaunting their power. And the manor is impeccably clean, which suggests that they don’t need to engage in fights.”

“You have a keen eye.”

Baek Ri-seol, eager to contribute, raised her hand.

“I have another observation! As soon as we entered the village, some unsavory-looking men headed towards that manor.”

As the one with the sharpest senses, she had noticed the traces of those who had disappeared.

“Hmm… I didn’t sense any vigilance or caution from them. Does that mean they have nothing to fear in this place?”

Mo Yong So-hye offered her own interpretation.

“What about you?”

Cho Un-hwi turned to Jegal Tan.

“They’re not part of the Iron Thread Alliance. They’re not a proper Demonic Sect, but rather a group of Dark path practitioners.”

Not all members of the Demonic Faction were the same.

The current Demonic Faction was largely under the control of the Iron Thread Alliance.

The fact that this group wasn’t part of the Alliance meant that they weren’t a formal Demonic Sect, but rather a band of rogue martial artists who practiced the Dark path.

Just like not all beggars belonged to the Beggars’ Sect, and not all bandits were part of the Green Forest Eighteen Bands.

Groups that weren’t formal sects were generally considered to be of lower rank.

At best, they were second-rate.

Most of them were closer to third-rate.

“Good. You know your stuff.”

“I’ve memorized the names of all the Demonic Sects that are part of the Iron Thread Alliance.”

“That’s a lot of names.”

“It’s common knowledge for a member of the Jegal Clan.”

“Good for you, asshole.”

Jegal Tan quickly shut his mouth.

He knew that his instructor had a tendency to lash out at anyone who showed off their knowledge.

It was a wise move for a genius of the Jegal Clan.

Namgung Yun-ho asked, “Instructor, we’ve identified the Black Tiger Gang as the dominant faction in this area. Is that all we need to know?”

The instructor had promised to give them their “first lesson.”

He wouldn’t just stop there.

As expected…

“Of course not.”

He answered immediately.

“Once you’ve identified the most powerful faction, there’s something else you need to keep in mind.”

They listened intently, eager to learn.

“The best restaurants are always next door to the most powerful faction.”

***

“What? Why?!”

The instructor was ranting.

“This is so important!”

“We all have to eat to survive.”

“And the best restaurants next to powerful Demonic Sects use the best ingredients!”

“They have to, or those grumpy Demonic bastards will beat them up!”

He continued to complain about how many restaurants were cutting corners these days, even resorting to reusing food. The four students stared at him coldly.

‘He’s not wrong, but…’

He had built up their expectations, only to let them down with this anticlimactic lesson.

“Hmph, I’m going to eat all by myself.”

Whatever.

His childish behavior was pathetic.

They arrived at the entrance to a tavern, aka the Demonic Sect’s best restaurant. A bald man with a scar on his face blocked their path.

“Who are you?”

Jegal Tan stepped forward.

“We’re travelers.”

“What brings you here?”

“We just happened to be passing by. Is this place exclusive?”

“Hmm, not really, but…”

The man’s gaze lingered on Baek Ri-seol, and Jegal Tan tightened his grip on his sword.

“Hehe, she’s so pretty. She would be delicious, even raw.”

“Are you picking a fight?”

Jegal Tan placed his thumb on his sword and nudged it upwards. The man stepped back.

“Haha, I was just kidding. I don’t want to fight.”

“…”

“Go on in. We welcome all customers who bring us business.”

The atmosphere was tense.

Even Namgung Yun-ho, who was usually stoic, was radiating hostility.

Mo Yong So-hye squirmed uncomfortably.

“Instructor, do we really have to eat here?”

“Yes, you said you wanted to eat a proper meal, didn’t you?”

She had.

They had been living off roots and berries for the past few days. It was only natural that she was craving a cooked meal.

“But this place is a bit… I’m going to get indigestion from all the stress.”

“These experiences will make you stronger.”

She couldn’t win against his logic.

***

The tavern was filled with drunken patrons, even though it was still daytime.

“They’re staring at us.”

Baek Ri-seol frowned as she felt the gazes of the men on her.

Mo Yong So-hye, her arms crossed, shivered.

“Where should we sit?”

“Over there.”

Namgung Yun-ho chose a table by the window, with their backs to the wall.

Cho Un-hwi nodded.

“Not bad.”

“It’s a good position for fighting and escaping.”

“Yes, I thought you would choose this spot.”

He turned to Jegal Tan, who nodded slightly.

“Do they have pork stew with wine here?”

Cho Un-hwi kicked him under the table.

“What the hell are you thinking? Why would they have pork stew with wine here?!”

“Uh, they don’t?”

Pork was a common and inexpensive ingredient. Pork stew with wine was a popular dish in Muhan City.

He had thought it was a safe choice.

Cho Un-hwi clicked his tongue.

“Where would they get the wine to make the stew? They would have drunk it all.”

“…”

“And have you forgotten where we are? This is a poor slash-and-burn village. They wouldn’t raise livestock that eats a lot.”

“Ah!”

He had been too naive.

He should have considered the local customs before making assumptions based on his limited knowledge.

“What should we order then?”

“Didn’t you see what everyone else was eating?”

“Ah, they were all eating pheasant noodles.”

“It’s pheasant noodle soup. Pheasants are easy to catch in the mountains. Five pheasant noodle soups, and do you have beef intestines. We’ll order both.”

He had figured that out in the short time they had been in the tavern?

He had sharp eyes.

He slammed his hand on the table, and the bald man hurried over.

“What do you want?”

“I’m the waiter.”

“With that face?”

“Hey, watch your mouth.”

“What?! Why?! What’s wrong with what I said?! Damn it, be honest with yourself. Do you think I can eat my noodles with that face staring at me? What if I get indigestion? Are you going to pay my medical bills?!”

He banged his scabbard on the table threateningly, and the waiter, scowling, backed away.

Cho Un-hwi said, “Second lesson: act like a difficult customer, and they’ll give you more meat.”

That was probably true.

It seemed like his bad attitude worked even on members of the Demonic Faction.

***

“Here’s your food.”

The waiter slammed the dishes on the table carelessly, but they were too hungry to care.

“Hmm, it smells good.”

“Sister, look at all the meat!”

“I can’t remember the last time I had a proper meal.”

“The broth smells amazing. I want to learn their secret recipe.”

They all picked up their chopsticks and dug into their noodles.

Then…

“Damn it!”

The instructor yelled.

“What’s wrong now?”

“His finger touched the broth!”

The waiter scoffed.

“It just brushed against it while I was serving you. What’s the big deal?”

“It’s a huge deal! Would you eat something that a filthy bastard like you touched with his unwashed fingers?!”

“That’s it! I’ve had enough of you!”

The waiter was about to explode.

But in the end, he backed down.

“I’ll bring you a new bowl!”

But the instructor’s antics didn’t stop there.

“Bring me another one.”

“Another one! Another one!”

“I said bring me another bowl!”

The four students stared at their noodles, their chopsticks frozen in midair.

The noodles were getting soggy as they waited for the instructor to finish his meal.

After several bowls of noodles had been rejected, the waiter finally snapped.

He threw down his towel and roared, “What’s wrong with it?! What?!”

“Are you serious?”

“My finger didn’t touch it! I was careful!”

“Your mind-finger touched it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“I’m serious. Bring me another one.”

“Damn it!”

The waiter kicked a nearby table, sending it flying.

“I can’t take this anymore!”

The other patrons, who had been watching the commotion, were now staring at them intently.

They were radiating hostility, ready to attack at the slightest provocation.

‘What have we gotten ourselves into?’

Baek Ri-seol and Namgung Yun-ho kicked their swords onto their laps.

Jegal Tan and Mo Yong So-hye discreetly hid their chopsticks under their sleeves.

They were ready to fight.

‘Why is he picking a fight?’

They sighed, but they all tensed up, gathering their internal energy.

It was a volatile situation.

Cho Un-hwi, who had been acting like a jerk, tilted his head.

“Really? I thought you spit in it.”

“Sorry if I was wrong.”

His playful apology only made things worse.

“You’re asking for it!”

Then, Cho Un-hwi said,

“So, who put the sleeping drugs in this?”

The waiter froze.

“S-sleeping drugs? What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t notice? Do you have no sense of smell? It reeks of drugs.”

“I-I don’t know anything about that.”

“Really? That’s strange. This is something you can only get in Yunnan Province. And when you mix it with Western techniques, it has a strong, bitter scent…”

He had identified the drug, its origin, and even the name of its creator just by smelling it. The waiter was trembling.

‘I messed with the wrong guy.’

That was the look on his face.

“So you’re saying it wasn’t you?”

“T-that’s right.”

“Then there’s only one culprit.”

Cho Un-hwi placed his hand on a nearby table.

**Crash!**

The table shattered into four pieces.

“Someone once told me that you should always use a tool when disciplining someone. They said it avoids unnecessary emotional baggage.”

He picked up a table leg and struck it with the edge of his hand, shaping it into a club.

His movements were surprisingly swift and precise.

“Now that I have a tool, I can find the bastard who tampered with our food and give him a good beating.”

“W-what?”

The waiter, who had been distracted by Cho Un-hwi’s display of strength, tried to stop him.

“What? Are you the culprit too?”

The waiter flinched at the murderous aura emanating from Cho Un-hwi.

“No? Then get out of my way.”

Cho Un-hwi disappeared into the kitchen.

**Crash!**

A loud crash followed.

“What the hell?! Who are you?!”

“Argh! What’s going on?!”

“H-help me! Please! Someone…”

**Thud! Crack!**

The commotion died down, and Cho Un-hwi emerged from the kitchen, a bloodstained club in one hand, a man’s limp body in the other.

He tossed the man at the waiter’s feet and asked, “So, it wasn’t you?”

“M-my lord, what are you talking about?”

The waiter had witnessed Cho Un-hwi’s power, and his own boss had been defeated effortlessly.

He quickly bowed his head.

“No, sir. It was a misunderstanding.”

“Of course it was. I’m a good judge of character.”

He dropped the bloodstained club and said, “Bring me another bowl of noodles.”