Chapter 415

Bang Jeoksa and Bang Jeom-myeong are both part of the Sado Sect’s Nang-gak, abbreviated from Sado Geon-a’s Alliance.

Nang-gak, where Sado’s thieves gather, got its name from the physiognomy of a traitor, so you could say the naming was rather malicious from the get-go.

Officially, it’s a name suitable for a strategist walking the path of Sado, embodying the cunning that doesn’t get tied down by righteousness and their ambition to rise above others and make a name for themselves.

However, considering that Sapa Warriors especially despise those with the title of ‘zir’, it’s easy to see why such a name was given. Those good-for-nothings flaunt their smarts even though their martial arts are pathetic, barely coming up to the size of a fist.

Anyway.

Bang Jeom-myeong thought.

“Seriously, this is unbearable, damn it.”

As soon as that crossed his mind, he felt a wave of sorrow wash over him. He couldn’t even voice his complaints, as expressing them out loud might lead to getting into trouble later, like having his feet tripped or shoulders jostled by someone looking to bully him.

He was treated like a strategist by the Sado Warriors.

“Why is there no response? I’m saying let’s have some fireworks!”

“Uh, fireworks, you say…?”

“It’s the Martial World Tournament, so we need to shoot off some fireworks to show Sado Geon-a’s flair. Don’t just think about launching one or two; make the night sky bright as day! You get what I’m saying?”

“Uh, to shoot off fireworks, we need to get permission from the officials first…”

“What? Why do we need their permission to shoot off fireworks?”

“Because it involves gunpowder…”

“What? Fireworks are gunpowder? No wonder it smelled like that! But why does it have to be?”

Gunpowder is a very sensitive matter.

To launch fireworks, civilians must pay hefty sums to the officials and hire a workplace from Beijing to legally trade for supplies, plus they need to borrow the name of an official when setting off these fireworks, which means they have to bring in someone based on their rank.

If you want to shoot off a couple, you need someone of Jihyeon’s level, but to light up the sky, you need to borrow the name of a Prefectural Governor at least to smooth things over.

Thus, it becomes a hefty sum combining bribes, gunpowder costs, and bribes again.

Just for the sake of a pretty view for one single night of fireworks.

“Damn it, why is it so expensive? But, doesn’t that mean we can elevate Sado Geon-a’s standing? Propose it! Just make sure to note that I suggested it. What do we call it? Launching? Like a launch?”

“The, uh budget is…”

“That’s something Nang-gak should figure out! Isn’t that why you strategists exist?”

“Y-Yes…”

The gathering of the Martial World Tournament, shortened to the Martial Tournament.

Since the Zhengpai Martial World is doing it, we have to do it too. That’s the resolution of Sado.

It’s something we can’t avoid.

When the Zhengpai gathers, the Sado must gather too, right?

Of course, all the preparations fall on the shoulders of the practical staff.

So why not just let the practical staff handle it? Yet, there’s always someone bumping their gums about such a ridiculous idea like it’s a good one.

Clearly just a show-off.

For the sake of showing off to Ryu-ju.

Later, if Ryu-ju is pleased, they’ll say, “Oh, that was my suggestion!” Ha ha, the fireworks, can’t you feel Sado Geon-a’s real spirit behind that?

The exceptional martial genius Sado Ryu-ju isn’t only the best at his own skills, but he’s also world-renowned in coaching other martial artists.

Just a casual remark from him brings about instant enlightenment.

The fact that Sado Ryu-ju’s close aides have achieved remarkable feats in the past few years speaks volumes.

That’s why everyone is breaking their backs trying to impress Sado Ryu-ju.

“Seriously, if my name doesn’t get mentioned, I might as well kill myself.”

With threats that a child would make, the elder of Sado Ryu-ju lightly pats Bang Jeom-myeong on the shoulder, delivering what feels like somewhat harsh blows before wandering off.

While Bang Jeom-myeong couldn’t even let out a sigh, thinking about how the fireworks were a pain, he swallowed his complaints and kept them pent up inside.

Just then, another elder bursts through the door of the Nang-gak.

“Oh, Bang Jeoksa, hard at work, I see. I actually had a brilliant idea.”

“Ah, yes.”

“I heard Zhengpai guys set up a floating martial arts arena on the canal?”

“Uh, the Dongjeong Lake is too far north…”

“No, no! You have to listen to the end! Setting up a floating arena now just makes us look like we copied the Zhengpai! So instead, we’re going to establish an aerial martial arts arena! We’re going to stack towers high and fight in the sky!”

“Then, how about the audience seats…?”

“We just have to stack them higher!”

“How can we…?”

“Why are you asking me? You’re the one who has to think about that from now on.”

Bang Jeom-myeong’s shoulders sagged.

Damn it, this is just unmanageable.

At that moment.

“Oh. Yeah, this.”

Suddenly, the elder presented a well-crafted box.

When Bang Jeom-myeong opened it, he found a beautiful brush made of weasel fur resting on silk—a treasure for a scholar.

“Uhm, is this for me?”

“It’s not really for me to say. I heard from the Munju of Salwol that he wants you to have it.”

Bang Jeom-myeong stared, blinking wildly.

“I’ve never even set foot in Gwangju, I’m not sure that’s true. I know Salwol by name, but I have no connections at all.”

“I don’t know. It seems like he wants to make a connection with Nang-gak. Wow, Bang Jeoksa, people are lining up for this and it’ll fly off soon!”

Then he smacked Bang Jeom-myeong’s shoulder again, and it was a wonder that the poor strategist’s shoulders didn’t break under the barrage.

Bang Jeom-myeong gazed down at the precious brush.

Did he say Salwol?

Why would someone from Nang-gak’s bottom tier go to such lengths?

The reason was unclear, but a precious brush, and a gift from someone’s child, that was certainly appreciated.

He figured he’d have to secure a good spot at the Martial Tournament in return.

—-

Just as Gwangju Seonbang is an allied organization of related associations, the Gold Robbery Guild is also a group of loan sharks and thugs banding together.

And when the loan sharks in Gwangju are wiped out, everybody’s too focused on the Civil Engineering Fairy’s hammer dance rather than the parade of funeral coffins.

So when they finally notice a body lying there alone, they just think, “Hey, what’s with this guy dying like that?”

It’s the kind of absurdity filled with a longing for what could have been.

If you’re going to die, at least do it with a delay!

It wasn’t exactly a happy time to be congratulating the Gwangju Seonbang guys for their demise, was it?

If they had died three days later, they could’ve eaten and reveled in the festive spirit around them, chomping and enjoying it as they reminisced about those lost.

There was so much to say that Gwangju folk’s tongues and lips were getting chapped.

But why did those moneylenders end up dead?

That, my friends, is a curse, I suppose.

The deity works swiftly. The Seonbang people handle things personally while the Gold Robbery fellows get wiped out with a curse.

And that curse returned to the shrine.

Looking as calm as if it was their own home.

“Seriously, mother is ruthless. Is it really okay to kill like that?”

“Huh? Didn’t you go home? Haven’t seen you around, and suddenly you show up again.”

“Eh, wasn’t she going on about how I should behave? A good son should act kindly, right? But, really mother, your hands are heavy. I’m out here double-checking and making sure not to kill innocent people, and yet you—just handed out the death sentence without batting an eye?”

“Do I need to leave trash behind when cleaning up?”

Suddenly, Qing’s words trailed off.

There was something off about it that kept bothering him.

Now he had a clearer feeling about it.

What was strange? Why were they all bad guys?

Why were they all scums that needed to die?

Even when dealing with those marauding bandits from the Green Forest, there were times when they received leniency due to being lesser evildoers.

So why now?

Even if Gwangju Seonbang was notorious for their vulgarity, had they really housed solely bad characters?

He even heard that they were distributing elixirs while actively obstructing the Jin Gajang’s disciple recruitment.

In that case, the younger generations—shouldn’t they have a glimmer of innocence to not be deemed utterly malevolent?

Are they subjected to a bizarre initiation like the flat-nosed bandits where they kill innocent people to be accepted into the ranks?

Pretty much, how different can the initiation processes of evildoers be, anyway?

Or maybe I’m just seeing numbers. No, no bad thoughts. Only good thoughts. Just think about good things and pretty faces.

“Yay, so ticklish! I really love your chest, Auntie.”

“No one hates a chest, you know?”

At that, Yeom Hwi-young’s eyebrows perked up.

“Hm. Should I call you mother instead of auntie? I mean, while affectionate phrases are nice, maybe tone it down in front of the child?”

“Well, whatever. I think it’s wonderful that you tread carefully on your chosen path of dealing with villains. Please continue doing it well.”

At that, Yeom Hwi-young’s face beamed with delight.

As I said, it wasn’t exactly a sight I wanted to see a young man smile.

Then, suddenly, he knelt in front of Qing, one knee down.

“What’s this about?”

“Are you only going to give me verbal praise? That kind of empty flattery isn’t worth much, you know? If this keeps up, I might just go off the rails, Mother?”

“What if I’m not just saying it?”

In response, Yeom Hwi-young pushed his crown forward.

Qing’s expression soured.

“Lady, you really push it to the limit.”

Though I didn’t feel inclined to oblige, it seemed wise to humor her.

At least I was glad to hear she responsibly checked to kill only bad people instead of innocent lives.

Given that there was a chance a mishap could lead to a giant catastrophe if a rogue in Hyun-gyeong screwed up, I had to sacrifice myself for the peace of the Martial World.

So Qing patted Son Representative Ho’s head gently, even if reluctantly.

Luckily, the boat was full of soft and firm softness swirling in my left hand, negating the feeling in my right-hand side to balance it out.

“I want to be clear—praising you just for killing bad people isn’t proper. That’s something you ought to do naturally. It’s your effort to distinguish between the genuinely bad and the lesser evil that’s commendable.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Suddenly, he seized her hand, rubbing his cheeks against it, and Qing jumped away like a cat that fell into water.

Yeom Hwi-young chuckled.

“Just keep being a good son, okay? How about you get used to it by now?”

“I’m going nuts, seriously…”

Qing gazed intently at Son Representative Ho.

Is this a game of family for an idler from Hyun-gyeong, or is it something more?

I couldn’t tell, even while I was compelled to react due to the biological impulse of teasing a junior.

Whether or not the sincerity was there, who knows?

The former would be better, the latter, no…

Of course, I had seen a glimpse of the twisted Mother of the Supreme Being in that formation.

Having never witnessed a smile on a mother’s face, I had only been met with the sharp gaze of hatred, so even in that dream, I longed for the face of an ideal mother who would love me.

Ugh, just recalling it sends chills down my spine.

Can I really call someone that much younger than me, as a mother?

That just doesn’t make sense!

Yet, her eyes overflow with love, her imperfect smile failing to shake off the shadow of fear.

Please love me. Please don’t abandon me.

When I first visited, those eyes seemed to glimmer with danger. Suddenly, she resembled a domesticated bull mastiff.

Did it all start from when I named her?

She might’ve been a very unmanageable bull mastiff.

That’s why I just couldn’t be hard on Qing.

“Alright, store away ‘Mother’ for a while. The Civil Engineering Fairy is gone, and the Cheonhwa-geom remains.”

“Oh. Is that how we’re playing it? Well, that’s a pity, but it can’t be helped. Go on and do your thing. The good son still has some good deeds left to do.”

Qing tilted her head.

What’s this? Surprising how easily she stepped back?

I thought she would throw a fit over why she couldn’t call my mother anymore or throw a childish tantrum over the waiting game.

Qing had greatly underestimated the martial practitioners who reached Hyun-gyeong.

That was someone who had attained their skills to the peak in a bid for the Heavenly Demon Soul—were they really light figures just because they acted recklessly and casually?

“That’s just the way it is,” meant, “Bring on the Mother later”, and ultimately that was just her permission to call her Mother.

Thus, Yeom Hwi-young simply couldn’t stop smiling contentedly.

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