Chapter 4
Taking Up His Post (1)
Seven days later, at a manor near Wencheng in Zhejiang Province.
Im Chung, Head of the Martial Alliance’s Wencheng Branch, sighed as he looked at the corpses laid out side by side in the courtyard.
“What kind of madman would do this?”
There were thirteen bodies in total. An entire household had been massacred.
The martial world often seemed as though it was constantly drenched in blood, but that was not truly the case. Incidents like this were by no means common. Unless someone bore a truly irreconcilable grudge, they would not normally kill family members and servants who knew no martial arts.
The victims were Yang Chu and his family.
Yang Chu had been renowned as a great hero not only in Wencheng, but throughout Zhejiang Province. Yet his entire household had been wiped out overnight.
“Branch Head.”
At that moment, Squad Leader Beon Saeng returned from questioning the people nearby.
He had smiling eyes and a warm, approachable appearance.
The Wencheng Branch had only nine people in total, including the laborers and the woman who cooked their meals. Of those, only six were martial artists, Im Chung included.
There was one branch head, one squad leader, and four ordinary martial artists.
It was one of the smallest branches in the entire Martial Alliance. Though it was called a branch, it was little more than a liaison office.
“No one saw the culprit.”
Im Chung had expected as much.
Anyone capable of killing Yang Chu had to be a considerable expert. Such a person would never have carelessly exposed their movements to the people nearby.
“No one heard anything either?”
“Even if they did, would they dare step forward?”
“True. Send the bodies to Physician Huang for now.”
“Yes.”
Physician Huang was the only doctor in Wencheng, and whenever a murder occurred, he also examined the bodies.
“Oh, and Branch Head.”
Beon Saeng glanced around before lowering his voice.
“Hall Master Wang said he’ll be waiting for you at the Hundred Flowers Pavilion tonight.”
The mention of Hall Master Wang made Im Chung’s brow furrow.
“Why?”
“He didn’t say.”
Im Chung asked in a blunt tone,
“Squad Leader Fan, are you a martial artist of the Martial Alliance, or do you belong to the Mythic Flame Sect?”
“What do you mean?”
“This is an appointment with a branch head of the Martial Alliance. Yet you arranged it without even asking why he wanted to meet me?”
“My apologies.”
Beon Saeng lowered his head.
Hall Master Wang was Wang Gon, a martial artist of the Mythic Flame Sect.
After the war ended, the Mythic Flame Sect had grown at a frightening pace and established itself as one of the representative powers of Zhejiang Province.
Its mysterious rise had inspired countless rumors.
Some claimed that an established sect from another region had merely changed its name and entered Zhejiang Province under a new banner. Others said a wealthy magnate of the martial world had founded it. Still others believed a reclusive master had emerged from seclusion and created the sect.
There were endless stories.
That was how rapidly the Mythic Flame Sect had grown.
Now, no one in Zhejiang Province could afford to ignore them.
The sect had appointed four hall masters to govern the eastern, western, southern, and northern parts of the province.
Wang Gon, whom Beon Saeng had mentioned, was the Southern Hall Master. He oversaw the southern region of Zhejiang Province, including Wencheng.
No one in Wencheng dared oppose his authority.
There was even a rumor that the previous branch head had been dismissed after offending him.
Under normal circumstances, such a thing should have been impossible.
But Wencheng was far too distant from the Martial Alliance’s central headquarters for common sense to hold much weight.
“Damn it.”
Im Chung, who had taken up his post the previous year, had disliked Wang Gon from the beginning.
There was contempt in his eyes, his attitude, and every casually spoken word.
He made no effort to conceal the authority of a man who believed he could replace the head of some insignificant branch whenever he pleased.
Then again, why would he fear a wandering branch head who had not even been sent directly from headquarters and had spent years drifting through the Central Plains?
“Tell him I don’t have time.”
“He said it was important and that he absolutely had to see you.”
Beon Saeng added weakly,
“Why not just meet him?”
Im Chung nearly shouted at him, but stopped himself.
Even he felt intimidated by the Mythic Flame Sect’s influence. How much worse must it be for Beon Saeng, who had to serve as the intermediary between them?
“Where did he say we should meet?”
“He reserved a private room at the Hundred Flowers Pavilion.”
Im Chung frowned.
Damn bastard. If he wants to meet me, he should come to the branch himself. Does he think wine and women can solve everything?
Wencheng might be a remote provincial town, but Im Chung was still an officially appointed branch head of the Martial Alliance.
The fact that a mere hall master of a local sect thought he could summon him at will was infuriating.
He wanted nothing more than to strike Wang Gon down with a single blow.
Unfortunately, reality demanded that he bow his head.
Im Chung suppressed his simmering anger and changed the subject.
“By the way, a new recruit is arriving tomorrow.”
“Oh! How many years has it been?”
“Treat the precious newcomer gently. Do you think he wanted to come here? He was probably sent this far because someone took a dislike to him. It would be cruel to make him suffer even after being exiled to this backwater.”
“I’ll treat him as gently as a woman. Ah, things will finally get a little easier around here.”
Beon Saeng beamed.
Then Im Chung gave him one more reason to rejoice.
“You’re coming to the Hundred Flowers Pavilion with me tonight.”
“Me too? Gladly! I’ll make sure to assist you properly!”
The thought of seeing beautiful courtesans made Beon Saeng’s face light up.
With his meager monthly salary, he could barely afford a single drink at the Hundred Flowers Pavilion.
“Thank you, Branch Head.”
“I’m heading back first. Finish up here and return afterward.”
Beon Saeng handled nearly all of the branch’s practical affairs.
He was indispensable both to Im Chung and to the branch itself.
Im Chung had to keep him content and manage him carefully.
He could not even imagine the branch functioning without Beon Saeng.
***
That night, Im Chung and Beon Saeng entered a private room at the Hundred Flowers Pavilion.
“It has been a while, Branch Head Lin.”
“Hall Master Wang. Have you been well?”
The man waiting inside was Wang Gon, Southern Hall Master of the Mythic Flame Sect.
The sharp-featured martial artist sitting beside him was Cheuk Su.
He was Wang Gon’s right-hand man and was reputed to be even stronger than Wang Gon himself.
Cheuk Su was said to possess strength comparable to a unit leader or higher in the Martial Alliance.
He took extraordinary pride in being a martial artist, yet paradoxically, he would carry out even the most dishonorable acts if Wang Gon ordered him to.
Instead of offering a proper greeting, Cheuk Su merely gave Im Chung a slight nod.
He took pride in that kind of arrogance.
Wang Gon, in contrast, greeted Im Chung warmly enough to clasp both his hands.
“My apologies for troubling such a busy man.”
“Not at all. It is always an honor to see you, Hall Master. Call for me whenever you wish.”
The words were insincere, but Im Chung was no greenhorn foolish enough to display his displeasure openly.
“Now then, I hear they have excellent wine tonight. Let’s drink until we’re thoroughly drunk.”
“Sounds good.”
The four men laughed and drank with the courtesans, emptying several bottles.
Though Wang Gon was over fifty, he displayed a capacity for alcohol that rivaled any young man.
Even while drinking, Im Chung made an effort to remain sober.
There is no such thing as a free meal.
If Wang Gon was entertaining him, then he wanted something.
Im Chung disliked him.
Wang Gon was tolerable while sober, but once alcohol loosened his tongue, he tended to belittle others in subtle ways.
That was when Im Chung’s disgust toward him became unbearable.
Yet what choice did he have?
If he wanted to keep even this miserable post as branch head in some remote town, then the angrier he became, the more loudly he had to laugh.
“Hahaha! Hall Master Wang truly is remarkable.”
“Isn’t everything possible only because Branch Head Lin has supported us in every possible way?”
“I am grateful to hear you say that.”
Even then, Im Chung pretended not to notice Cheuk Su staring at him with a mocking expression.
He had heard many rumors about the man.
Assault, threats, even murder.
There were allegations serious enough that he ought to be arrested and investigated.
If I could do what I truly wanted, that bastard would be the first one I dealt with.
Im Chung drained his cup.
This isn’t the life I wanted.
He had dreamed of protecting chivalry and justice, living without ever bowing to anyone.
That was why he had become a martial artist.
But at some point, he had surrendered before something called “reality.”
So this is what I was all along.
If anyone could uphold chivalry and justice, would they still be called chivalry and justice?
Drowning in self-loathing, he emptied another cup.
The alcohol tasted especially bitter tonight.
Only after they had enjoyed themselves for some time did Wang Gon finally arrange a private conversation.
He sent Beon Saeng, Cheuk Su, and the courtesans into the adjoining room.
Then he revealed why he had asked to meet.
“There is one matter I wished to discuss with you today.”
“Please speak.”
“Our sect is planning to begin a small new venture here in Wencheng.”
“Oh! Congratulations.”
“It is nothing so grand. There is no need for that.”
“What sort of venture is it?”
“We intend to build an ironworks.”
“An ironworks?”
Im Chung was startled.
It was completely unexpected.
Wang Gon did not explain the details.
“As you know, whenever a new business begins, all sorts of unpleasant rumors tend to arise.”
Rumors would be the least of it.
There would undoubtedly be endless trouble, and judging by the Mythic Flame Sect’s past behavior, there would likely be many victims.
Im Chung immediately felt uneasy.
“Even if some unpleasant things happen to reach your ears, I wanted to ask that you not take them too seriously and simply let them pass.”
The fact that Wang Gon was attempting to secure his silence in advance suggested that this would involve far more than merely constructing an ironworks.
Im Chung felt deeply uncomfortable, but smiled nevertheless.
“I understand what you mean.”
“It is reassuring to have you here, Branch Head Lin. And in that spirit…”
Wang Gon casually pushed a small box across the table.
“What is this?”
“I heard your son is learning martial arts. Have him take this.”
Im Chung opened the box.
The moment he saw what was inside, his eyes widened.
“This is…”
“That’s right. A hundred-year-old fleeceflower root.”
Im Chung stared in shock.
It was a precious spiritual herb capable of granting a martial artist anywhere from five to ten years’ worth of internal energy.
“I cannot accept something this valuable.”
“You’re right. It is extremely valuable. That is precisely why I am giving it especially to you.”
Im Chung wavered.
If it truly was a hundred-year-old fleeceflower root, it would be an enormous help to his son.
Even so, I must not accept it.
It was an obvious bribe.
This was on an entirely different level from accepting a drink at a pleasure house.
The Wang Gon he knew hated suffering losses more than anything.
He was the kind of man who would give away one hundred years’ worth of medicinal value and then suck blood from his victim for a thousand years in return.
“My son lacks the talent to deserve something this precious.”
Smiling, Im Chung pushed the box back toward him.
“Please do not reject my goodwill.”
“Haha. Your kindness alone is more than enough.”
The box containing the fleeceflower root returned to Wang Gon.
At that moment, Im Chung saw his eyes turn cold.
The disappointment and irritation in them were obvious.
It was no longer mere pressure.
It was a threat.
Even so, I cannot take it.
Im Chung knew that the moment he accepted the bribe, he would become Wang Gon’s puppet forever.
If he fastened the first button incorrectly, the final hole waiting for him would be the one dug for his grave.
That isn’t a spiritual herb.
It’s poison.
***
The following day, at the Martial Alliance’s Wencheng Branch.
Im Chung stared down at the medicinal decoction Beon Saeng had brought him for his hangover.
“Is something troubling you?”
Im Chung shook his head at Beon Saeng’s question.
“No.”
“But your face is full of worry.”
Naturally, it was because of Wang Gon.
Should I have accepted the fleeceflower root after all?
He had refused it to the very end.
Rejecting a bribe should have left him feeling clean and relieved.
Instead, he remained uneasy.
Whenever he remembered Wang Gon’s displeased expression, his chest tightened.
“You…”
“Yes?”
He nearly asked whether Beon Saeng had received anything separately, but stopped himself.
No matter how close they were as superior and subordinate, it was not something he could ask carelessly.
Instead, he asked something else.
“Did Cheuk Su tell you anything yesterday?”
“About what?”
“I heard the Mythic Flame Sect is building a new ironworks.”
“Yes. He said it would be several times larger than the existing one.”
“Several times?”
“He boasted that, in terms of scale alone, it would be the largest in the Central Plains. Those bastards must be planning to rake in a fortune. But why do you ask?”
“No reason.”
After drinking the decoction, Im Chung pressed his fingers firmly against the space between his brows.
The extermination of Yang Chu’s family.
The Mythic Flame Sect’s new business.
The attempted bribe.
Too many troublesome matters had arrived all at once.
And now one more had been added.
The door opened, and a man entered.
Carrying a leather travel bag over one shoulder, he was none other than Baek Socheon.
He walked over slowly, handed Im Chung his assignment order, and said,
“I’m Baek Socheon, the new arrival.”