Chapter 373

The return trip was short.

On the way there, we had at least adjusted our pace while exchanging information. But in game terms, this was a luxury party with no fewer than five Supreme Peak masters traveling together.

A distance that would have taken an ordinary person half a day had been reduced to almost nothing.

“You have worked hard, Benefactor Jin.”

“You must still be tired. Thank you for coming with us.”

As we approached the Sichuan Tang Clan, the two Sect Leaders offered their thanks. I shrugged.

“It’s nothing. I didn’t really help much, anyway.”

“That’s true.”

“It is.”

“…”

I mean, it was true that I hadn’t helped much, but wasn’t that a little harsh?

Clear Wind Ancient Sword gave me a faint smile, then made a fist-and-palm salute to the Slaughter Saint and Jeok Cheongang.

“I am grateful to you two Seniors as well. My apologies for bringing you all this way for nothing.”

The Slaughter Saint and Jeok Cheongang answered at the same time.

“It was for nothing.”

“Next time, don’t do anything you’ll have to apologize for. Understood?”

“…Ah, yes.”

Yeah. That was exactly how I felt.

The Slaughter Saint continued, addressing the uncomfortable-looking Clear Wind Ancient Sword.

“And… I hope you never seek me out again.”

He didn’t mean, I can’t be bothered, so call me sparingly. The man who had briefly returned to being the Slaughter Saint was trying to become Mungyeong, the young physician, once more.

Everyone present understood the meaning behind his words.

The two Sect Leaders were the most flustered of all.

“S-Senior, that…”

“Benefactor, perhaps you should reconsider?”

But the only answer they received was the Slaughter Saint’s dry gaze.

After a brief silence, Clear Wind Ancient Sword and Extinction Divine Nun sighed softly and nodded.

“…Very well.”

“I shall respect your wishes, Benefactor. For now.”

The final words—for now—were given unusual emphasis. A quiet voice slipped between the Slaughter Saint’s lips.

“My intervention this time was nothing more than a minor whim. My intentions have not changed.”

His firm answer left not even the slightest opening. The Slaughter Saint turned his gaze toward Jeok Cheongang and me.

“I trust you two understand as well.”

Jeok Cheongang abruptly spoke.

“Are you planning to go back to pretending to be a physician when it doesn’t suit you at all?”

“It isn’t an act. The Slaughter Saint no longer exists. Only a physician remains.”

“Even if a tiger wraps itself in a goat’s hide, can you call it a goat?”

“If it hides its teeth and claws, even a tiger can become a goat.”

“But in the end, you revealed your claws at the last moment. Didn’t you?”

A shallow furrow formed between the Slaughter Saint’s brows.

“You’ve become more talkative with age. You still owe me a debt, you know.”

“…Damn. You’re not wrong, so I can’t even argue.”

“I’ll take that as your answer.”

After cutting off the conversation with Jeok Cheongang, the Slaughter Saint glanced at me.

“And you?”

“Me?”

“Who else is left?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Do I have a choice?”

“Of course. You have two choices.”

The Slaughter Saint spoke with an impassive expression.

“First, you can go around blabbing that the young physician named Mungyeong is actually the Slaughter Saint, then be found dead without anyone knowing. Second, you can keep your mouth shut so no one notices, treat me as you did before, and leave quietly.”

“…”

“Which will you choose?”

Wow. The choices were so difficult that I was momentarily lost for words.

I swallowed hard.

“The second one.”

“Good choice.”

“Yeah.”

The Slaughter Saint was about to nod at my swift answer when he stopped short.

“What did you just say?”

“Why?”

“What?”

“No, what’s wrong? You told me to treat you comfortably, like I did before.”

“…!”

“…!”

The two Sect Leaders’ mouths fell open. After a moment of stunned silence, the Slaughter Saint turned to Jeok Cheongang, who was snickering.

“Is this bastard insane?”

“He’s always been like that. A real headache, isn’t he?”

“I want to smash his skull.”

I quickly bowed before my skull could be smashed.

“Ah, I got confused for a moment. My apologies.”

“Not even a dog would believe that, but I’ll let it pass this once.”

Was it that obvious I’d tried to screw with him while pretending it was a mistake?

The Slaughter Saint glared at me with narrowed eyes for a moment before speaking again.

“In any case, watch yourself from now on. Other than those present, no one knows the truth about me. Ah, that boy Cheongpung is an exception. And my Disciple, of course.”

“Young Hero Cheong knew too?”

“Yes. Other than that child, everyone who saw me that day is dead.”

Talk about a clean cleanup.

Only now did I understand why there hadn’t been a single prisoner at the Sichuan Tang Clan.

The masked Slaughter Saint. Once the mask comes off, every last panelist and audience member fucking dies.

Come to think of it, the more I look at him, the stranger it feels. Mungyeong was the Slaughter Saint all along.

Memories flashed through my mind, from our first meeting on the Yangtze to everything that had happened since.

Which of the appearances he had shown me were true, and which were false?

The innocent young physician I had known no longer existed. Only the world’s greatest assassin remained, his gaze dry and emotionless.

Before I knew it, a question burst from my lips.

“Why do you try so hard to hide yourself?”

The Slaughter Saint’s form, moving toward the Sichuan Tang Clan now visible in the distance, stopped stock-still at the sudden question.

After a brief silence, an unexpectedly calm answer reached me.

“Because I’m sick to death of the Murim.”

“Is that why you left?”

“Yes. I swore to the heavens that I would never take another life.”

Here in the Murim, assassins were objects of contempt. Neither the orthodox factions nor the heterodox and demonic paths welcomed them.

They were regarded not as martial artists pursuing higher realms of martial arts, but as people born solely to kill.

How much blood had one assassin spilled—and been drenched in—to earn the epithet Slaughter Saint?

I thought I understood how he felt, at least somewhat.

But…

“On the other hand, I’m curious about something.”

“What?”

“Why you came back to the Murim you hate so much.”

“Came back? What nonsense are you talking about?”

The Slaughter Saint’s eyes sank deeply.

“It was a choice I couldn’t avoid. An inevitable one.”

“Perhaps. If that’s how you put it, I can’t argue. But it seems to me that you made at least a few choices of your own. For example…”

I scratched the back of my head and continued.

“You asked to travel with some martial artists you met on the Yangtze because you were going the same way. Then, a few days later, you met us again as if by coincidence and subtly revealed your identity. Or you borrowed my name and told the Future Beggar Chief of the Beggars’ Sect to save the Emei Sect, while you went to the Qingcheng Sect and…”

“Enough.”

“Yes. I was about to stop anyway. When I list them one by one, there are quite a lot.”

“What do you want me to say? That I should have stood by and watched countless people—including you and your master—die?”

“Of course not. I’m truly grateful, Great Hero.”

It wasn’t sarcasm. It was one hundred percent sincere.

If he hadn’t stepped in at the right moment, countless people would have been killed or injured.

Jeok Cheongang and I would have been no exception.

But the Slaughter Saint’s response was as dry as grains of sand in a desert.

“Don’t call me Great Hero.”

“Then what should I call you?”

The Slaughter Saint stared at me without a word, then turned away.

As he took a step toward the Sichuan Tang Clan, which looked like a large dot in the distance, his form glided forward like a ghost.

The boy’s voice scattered on the wind.

“Mungyeong. That is enough.”

Would that really be enough?

Only he knew the answer.

I shrugged.

“Yeah, got it, Mungyeong.”

“…!”

At that moment, the figure ahead of us staggered.

Two leeches followed me back to the pavilion.

One was Hyuk Mujin, who left me unsure whether he was my right arm or my little finger. The other was the beggar, whose skin had become at least a little whiter, as if he had finally scrubbed off some grime.

“Mungyeong… What’s wrong with him? He seems a little gloomier somehow.”

“That can happen. His master, the Divine Physician, was injured too, and there are so many patients waiting for him.”

“Oh, I see. But Captain, where did you go with Mungyeong?”

“The kid looked depressed, so Captain must’ve taken him out for some fresh air. Why are you such an idiot?”

“Ha! Never in my life did I think I’d hear that from a beggar. I may not look it, but I’ve read hundreds of books. No one has ever called me an idiot before.”

As far as I could tell, they were both idiots.

I swallowed the two words Slaughter Saint that had been hovering on the tip of my tongue.

Those two would never know Mungyeong’s true identity, even if they died and came back to life.

Then again, anyone would fall for acting that good.

The moment anyone’s attention fell on him, the Slaughter Saint returned to being Mungyeong.

No one suspected his identity just because the usually cheerful young physician seemed a little gloomier.

No—they couldn’t even have guessed.

“I’d give you credit if it were the Four Books and Three Classics, but you’ve done nothing but read martial-arts novels nonstop. What do you mean, ‘books’?”

“I’ve read romance novels too. Don’t you know Gwiyeommi?¹”

“Wait. Gwiyeommi? The scholar who wrote The Seduction of a Young Prodigy, That Guy Was Strong, and all those others?”

“Oh, you know him.”

“Of course I do. When I was a First-Knot Disciple, I spent the money I’d begged for to rent one of his books, and the boss beat the dust out of me. Ha! If I ever meet that bastard again, I’ll use the Dog-Beating Staff Technique to—”

Whack!

“Gah!”

“Ow!”

I kicked both of them in the ass while they were happily sharing memories, sent them packing, then slammed the door shut.

I had more than enough to think about already. Why had those bastards come here to make such a racket?

At last, some quiet.

Cheongpung was probably running all over the place by now, and Jeok Cheongang had told me to take the day off and get some proper rest. No one would be looking for me for a while.

I lay down on the soft bed and decided to take care of something I had put off for a while.

Check unread messages.

Ding. Ding. Ding, ding!

Chimes rang out without end as System windows filled the air. This had happened a few times before, but this was a new record.

Momentarily speechless, I began checking the important messages one by one.

System

• You have reached the Supreme Peak realm!
• You defeated Lv. 170 No Gunbaek!
• Quest Uninvited Guest completed successfully!
• You have acquired a massive amount of EXP and Fame!
• The System message limit has been exceeded. Acquired EXP and Fame will be totaled.
• You have reached Lv. 120!
• Your Fame has surpassed the threshold. You have acquired a new Title!
• You gained enlightenment on your own in battles where life and death hung in the balance. All your martial arts have advanced significantly, and you can now use new martial arts!
• The realm of Blazing Flame Divine Technique has reached the Eighth Stage!
• The realm of Flame Divine Palm has…
• The realm of Fire Dragon Divine Spear…

Countless requests for handshakes—no, a feast of messages.

Just skimming through them made my eyes spin.

“…Whoa, shit.”

What was all this?

The fact that I still had half my messages left unread was enough to send me into a panic.

As I scrolled down with my hand to figure out how many were left, something unusual caught my eye.

System

• A new Item is now bound to you.
• Currently bound Items: White Flame, ???
• No name has been assigned yet. If you give it a new name, the Item will become completely bound to you and can be summoned through your Inventory from anywhere.

“This pops up here…”

The modern-world Inventory and the Murim Inventory were separate.

But bound Items like White Flame could be taken out anywhere, unconstrained by space.

I’d already been feeling that White Flame alone wasn’t quite enough, so this was a stroke of incredible luck.

If you’re giving it to me, I’ll gladly take it.

Brimming with anticipation, I was just about to check my Inventory when—

Knock, knock, knock.

Someone cautiously poked his head through the door.

“Captain. It’s Mujin…”

“Get lost.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Hyung’s busy. Go read some Gwiyeommi novels.”

“Oh, Captain, you’ve read them too?”

“…You little bastard. Seriously.”

That did it. Before opening the Item, I needed to open him up first.

I shot up from the bed, and Hyuk Mujin hurriedly shouted,

“Henan! It’s Henan!”

“What?”

“An investigation team has arrived from Henan! They’re looking for you, Captain.”

“…An investigation team?”

I frowned at Hyuk Mujin’s explanation, which had left out everything before and after.

Ding.

A familiar notification reached my ears.