Chapter 80
“I have a close friend in the Jegal Clan.”
“A… close friend? Who do you mean?”
“Someone you don’t know. He’s a guy I became indebted to after you ran away from the Jegal Clan.”
“……”
“You’re headed to the Jegal Clan anyway, aren’t you? You can meet him then.”
“That friend… is he kind?”
“Well, he’s not that bad.”
“Very well. I shall go and meet him myself.”
Who could it be?
Is he someone with martial arts as formidable as Sa-u?
Who in the world did his tiger-like father come to favor?
“But is it all right to leave that token with the young waiter?”
“Why? Do you want to take it back? And let the Black Society leave that place alone?”
“…No. It’s fine.”
Jegal Haesu released the shoulder he had been holding onto.
I thought he was an emotionless martial artist, yet at times he shows kindness like a different person.
He was truly a strange man. And because of that elusive nature, Haesu could never fully trust Sa-u.
He was like a thick fog—nothing like Namgung Jin, who was easy to read.
For now, he acted decently thanks to Sarm, but there was no telling when he would turn.
He would need to be careful. And alert.
Just then, Sarm cut into the conversation, preventing Haesu from continuing with Sa-u.
“Sir Sa-u! How does one use Chugung-Gwahyeol? Can I also hit— no, I mean, treat Sir Jegal with it?”
“……”
Sarm, why do you sound like you want to hit me?
Jegal Haesu let out a deep sigh.
“You can’t. You have a special ability, yes, but no internal energy. You must infuse internal energy and strike precisely at the blocked acupoint.”
“Can’t I use my energy like internal energy?”
“Well… you’d have to try.”
“Sir Jegal! Did you hear that? May I practice by pounding— I mean, practicing— on you?”
“Sarm, is that really for treatment?”
“Yes! I sincerely— truly!— wish to treat you. But whenever you say something annoying… I might feel the urge to practice.”
Why was he smiling at the thought she might intentionally hit him?
Her bright, adorable grin made it impossible to refuse her.
“…Fine. Do as you wish.”
* * *
The Tongyeong Gate, the greatest tavern in Yangyang.
Despite it not being late, the vast establishment was filled with people chatting, drinking, and igniting their desires.
There were also many martial artists of impressive spirit.
Not only martial artists of the Jegal Clan, but also people from other sects.
Tongyeong Gate was famous—if you visited Yangyang, this place was a must.
Its fame wasn’t only due to size and quality.
The name held power.
Dongnyongmun—“Ascending the Dragon Gate,” meaning to step onto the Dragon Gate and rise.
Rumor had it that many people, after visiting this place, overcame the hardships they had been facing.
People about to take important exams, martial artists stuck due to inner demonic qi… all of them supposedly received benefit after visiting Dongnyongmun.
Thanks to the rumor, the place was always packed.
But not everyone could use it equally.
Each floor had assigned clientele:
-
1st floor: commoners or unknown martial artists
-
2nd floor: more recognized individuals
-
3rd floor: only those with guaranteed status
The most coveted seats were the window seats on the 3rd floor.
They provided a full view of the wide river and buildings of Yangyang.
Competition for those seats was fierce.
But normally, the winners were members of the Jegal Clan.
After all, Yangyang was their territory.
Today was no exception.
At the 3rd-floor window seats sat men dressed in scholarly attire.
“Truly, this is mountains high, waters clear. Just admiring this scenery clears all storms from my heart.”
“Yes, Garim. It’s good that the storms of your heart have cleared. Don’t you think so as well, brother?”
The speaker was Baek Garim, accompanied by Jegal Sochu.
Jegal Sochu looked toward the man they called “brother.”
The man had a pensive expression. Unlike the other two, he was not wearing scholarly robes.
He wore white martial attire.
“…I cannot say.”
Baek Garim poured wine into the man’s cup.
“Please have a drink, Clan Head. A little intoxication might lift your mood.”
“Thank you, Garim.”
The man was Jegal Cheon—
Head of the Jegal Clan, and father of Jegal Haesu.
As Haesu had described, his face resembled a tiger from Mount Taishan.
His features were unlike Haesu, who took after his mother’s side.
Jegal Cheon downed the wine in one gulp.
He wished for even a little intoxication, but his mind remained perfectly clear.
Had he even been drunk once since his two sons disappeared before his eyes?
At that moment—
A loud commotion erupted.
Crash! Bang—!
The noise came from the 2nd floor.
“What is that commotion?”
Jegal Sochu—always the most curious—reacted first. Baek Garim, quick-witted as ever, responded.
“I will go check.”
“Good.”
Garim descended to the 2nd floor without annoyance.
He was actually just as curious as Sochu, unable to ignore any source of disturbance.
On the 2nd floor, a scuffle was underway.
Garim grabbed a passing courtesan.
“What’s going on?”
“It seems the guests got into a quarrel while talking.”
“What were they talking about?”
The courtesan appeared troubled—almost as if the matter involved Garim.
While waiting for the answer, he observed the brawling men, analyzing:
Their martial levels, their status, and the items on their table.
Nothing impressive.
Just then, one of the fighting men spotted Garim and shouted.
They had recognized him from the scholarly silk attire of the Jegal Clan.
“A man of the Jegal Clan! Rather than fight, let’s ask him directly!”
Garim moved first.
He strode forward silently and stood before the two men grabbing each other’s collars.
“Why are you invoking the Jegal Clan?”
“I am Im Wooshin, owner of a small martial hall nearby.”
“I am Mak Gaesu, owner of a textile shop in Yangyang.”
“Yes.”
“Well, this fool Mak Gaesu—who knows nothing of martial arts—claims he saw a martial artist of the Jegal Clan in some rundown inn in Yangyang!”
“Oh? How intriguing.”
Garim’s eyes curved beautifully.
His expression held not surprise, but interest.
“He even claims the person used Immortal Arts! Does that make any sense? I’ve heard only the direct bloodline of the Jegal Clan can master Immortal Arts, but the direct heirs…”
Im Wooshin trailed off, glancing nervously at Garim.
There wasn’t a single person in Yangyang who didn’t know the two sons of the Jegal Clan were missing.
Flustered, Im Wooshin turned on Mak Gaesu.
“So you must be lying! You started this fight by refusing to tell the truth!”
“No! Listen, I really saw Immortal Arts! The young master danced with a fan—his martial arts were like a dance! And he was handsome—remarkably so!”
Garim, amused by their quarrel, smiled again and asked:
“Where is that inn?”
