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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Nine Swords of Dugu. One
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Stabbed by the chopstick, the man trembled, his face a mask of fear as he looked at Mujin.
"Don't be so tense, it's nothing. You don't think I'd actually kill you, do you?"
Though he spoke playfully, the man, who had survived in the ruthless underworld where death was a common occurrence, was certain that the frail-looking man before him had killed more than once or twice.
It was the composure only one accustomed to killing could possess.
This madman, who treated human life as lightly as a child's game, could surely slit his throat at any moment over the slightest change in mood.
That was why the man was on high alert, desperate not to displease Mujin.
"Who is this 'client' you mentioned earlier?"
"Th-that is…"
"You'd best choose your words carefully. You understand?"
The moment the man saw Mujin speaking with a bright smile, his face spattered with blood, he knew that lies would be useless.
"The second son of the Cheonghwa Merchant Guild and his mother."
"Right? I had a feeling it was those thieves. So, what kind of deal was struck between the Cheonghwa Merchant Guild's clients and you?"
"..."
"Well, if your honor is more precious than your life, I am more than willing to respect a man who stands by his principles."
Seeing Mujin's serious expression, the man's shoulders trembled as he began to speak without pause.
"They told us to lend the Yeomhwa Family as much money as they wanted, no matter the amount. With the highest possible interest. They wanted to ensure the Yeomhwa Family could never repay the debt, to make them struggle as if drowning in a river… If we did that, they promised that after the Yeomhwa Family fell, they would give us the land and a satisfactory reward."
"And that was for a measly three hundred nyang? My sense of money may be dull, but surely a mere three hundred gold nyang isn't enough?"
"The debt we've collected from the Yeomhwa Family's businesses alone already exceeds seven thousand nyang."
"Tsk. To think they'd repay seven thousand nyang, only to fail at repaying a mere three hundred."
"We manipulated the repayment schedule with the contract to inflate the debt with as much interest as possible…"
"Ah, I see. I get the gist of it. So, after about a year, how much will this three hundred nyang become?"
"According to the contract, five thousand nyang…"
"I've often heard that money-lending is a business where you make money just by sitting down, but this is truly something else."
The man's trembling grew, fearing Mujin would stab him at any moment.
Regardless, Mujin himself seemed utterly unconcerned.
"Let's move on to another topic. Who are they? The ones backing you? I doubt they're from the Orthodox Faction."
At his question, the man answered immediately.
"It's the Minor Kill Sect."
"Minor Kill Sect?"
Mujin tilted his head, having never heard of such a sect.
"Of the Samu-cheon…"
"Was there such a sect in Samu-cheon?"
"No, that's not it. I heard they are an Unorthodox Sect with ties to the Red Sword Sect, the 30th sect of Samu-cheon."
"The 30th? Isn't that the very bottom of the barrel?"
The man had never seen anyone refer to the Red Sword Sect, the last sect of Samu-cheon, as the bottom of the barrel.
"Y-yes, that's right."
But the man nodded vigorously in agreement.
Samu-cheon was far away, and the madman was close; he had no choice if he wanted to live.
"Samu-cheon. A name I haven't heard in a while."
"D-do you have a connection to Samu-cheon?"
The startled man's eyes widened as he asked, and Mujin tilted his head.
"If ill fate counts as a connection, then yes."
"Young Master? What on earth are you talking about…"
"You don't need to worry about it. By the way, what's taking that guy who went to get the money so long? Is he really having second thoughts?"
Masok looked back in surprise and said.
"That's why I said we should have just run away!"
"If we came here to make money just to leave empty-handed, what was the point of coming?"
"..."
Just then, the sound of someone stomping and running down from the upper floor echoed through the room.
The man who came rushing down carrying a large wooden box was the one who had gone up for the money.
-Thud!
He set the box on the floor, pulled out a large money pouch full of gold from his robes, and respectfully offered it.
"Thirty-one gold nyang and four hundred silver nyang."
"Oh! A total of fifty-one gold nyang. You got the amount just right."
"I was a bit late because I had to scrape together all the silver we had."
The man scratched the back of his head and gave an awkward smile, like a child hoping for praise.
"Good work! You're a responsible fellow, just as your size suggests. Masok. Carry this."
At Mujin's command, Masok grunted as he hoisted the box containing four hundred silver coins onto his back.
"Now, make sure to record this properly in your ledgers. As soon as I'm finished with your clients, I'll be back to repay every single debt with precision."
The bloodied man nodded at Mujin's words, which carried a strange killing intent.
"Oh, and one more thing. I'll keep it a secret that you wet yourself, so don't you worry."
Without a backward glance, Mujin said this and disappeared upstairs.
Only then did the man realize the disgraceful state he was in.
But he felt not a shred of shame.
He was just grateful to have survived the grasp of what seemed to be a terrifying demon of slaughter.
"Ugh! Where… where are you going now?"
Seeing Mujin heading in a direction away from the family estate, Masok groaned, still hoisting the box of silver, and complained.
"Where else? The blacksmith."
It was the talk of a blacksmith that had led Mujin to the gambling den in the first place.
"Ah, you said you were ordering something?"
"Yeah."
"What is it?"
"A sword."
"...But there are swords at the estate."
"Not that kind of sword."
"More importantly… Young Master."
"What now?"
Mujin turned back, annoyed, to see Masok looking at him pleadingly, drenched in sweat.
"C-can't we carry this together?"
"...Look at this frail body of mine. As if I could lift something that heavy. Isn't there a money exchange nearby?"
"A money exchange, you say? There's one just up ahead…"
"Then we can just ask them to exchange it for gold."
"Ah!"
They headed straight for the money exchange, and after converting all but twenty silver nyang into gold, Masok smiled, delighted by the lightened load.
"That makes exactly fifty nyang."
Mujin tucked the pouch of converted gold into his robes.
Watching him, Masok asked.
"By the way, when did you learn such martial arts?"
"Martial arts? What martial arts?"
"When you crushed those vicious thugs from the gambling den!"
"What makes you call them martial artists? And that wasn't anything like martial arts. Just things I picked up naturally while living a rough life on the streets. Aside from some light footwork, there's nothing you could call a martial art."
It was a fighting style he had learned with his child's body before meeting his master in his past life, struggling to survive alone in a harsh world.
He had never dreamed the day would come when he would use those techniques again, born of pure malice and a desperate will to live.
Leading Masok, Mujin headed to the largest blacksmith in Seochang and met with the owner, who employed many smiths.
-Clang! Clang! Clang!
"Hey! The fire's too weak!"
"Bring more iron!"
As he looked around the smithy, filled with heat and the booming voices of brawny men, the middle-aged, thick-armed owner spoke.
"What would you like to order?"
"Ah. Three swords. One weighing 50 geun. Another, 80 geun. And the last, a 110-geun iron sword. If possible, can you make them sturdy with crude iron?"
The owner looked at Mujin, who was famous in Seochang for his madness, and spoke.
"Making them isn't difficult, but why do you need such unusable swords?"
"I must have a use for them if I'm asking you to make them."
The blacksmith's brow furrowed at Mujin's curt reply, but he nodded.
"Very well. However, I'll require a down payment. There are rumors that the Yeomhwa Family is in financial difficulty recently."
"How much?"
"I'll need one gold nyang."
"Isn't that a bit much for making three iron swords?"
"After the cost of the iron and the labor of the smiths, there's not much left."
Mujin took out a gold nyang from his pouch and handed it to the blacksmith.
"I'd like them made as quickly as possible."
The owner took the gold, thought for a moment, and then spoke.
"For swords of that weight, the handles cannot be made of ordinary wood. It will take some time…"
"It doesn't matter if the whole thing is made of iron. No need for any fancy techniques. No need for a sharp edge, either. Just the tip needs to be sharp."
"Is that really sufficient?"
"Yes."
"In that case, if we start work today, we can have them finished by tomorrow."
It was a job that was barely more than shaping molten iron and hammering it a bit, a sword in name only.
"However, it will be nothing more than a lump of iron, lacking both sharpness and balance."
"That's exactly what I need."
An iron club in the shape of a sword.
That was what Mujin wanted.
"You can come to pick them up at noon tomorrow."
"I will."
With that, Mujin turned and left with Masok. The blacksmith shook his head as he watched them go.
"It seems his madness worsens by the day."
His madness was now so famous in Seochang that there was hardly anyone who didn't know of it.
There were countless incidents of him having fits in the middle of the night, screaming and running around naked, or wearing makeup and chasing after men.
Now that he was pouring a large sum of money into useless items, it seemed the legacy of the Yeomhwa Family would not last much longer.
"Tsk, tsk. To think he was once hailed as the greatest prodigy in Sichuan. One truly cannot predict what lies a step ahead in life. Hey! Anyone free over here? Come here!"
And so, the blacksmith began preparations to make the swords Mujin had commissioned.
When Mujin returned to the estate, it was, as always, his two young siblings who came running to him.
Mujin's expression brightened as he saw the two children, who were the first to run up and cling to his legs.
"Brother!"
"Big Brother!"
"So, are you two training well?"
"Yes! I did as you said, Brother, and I've started to sense my ki!"
"Me too! Me too! I did what Big Brother said and I sensed my ki too!"
Mujin found it adorable that the children were exaggerating to get his praise.
He smiled, stroking their heads.
"Sensing ki is not something that can be felt so quickly or easily. You need to…"
"No! It's true!"
"It is! It's really true! It felt like a thin thread, and also…"
"Like warm water. I definitely felt it enter through my mouth and go down to my lungs!"
!!
Mujin stared at the two children with wide eyes.
"What else? What else did you feel?"
"Um… from the wind, something warm, from the air, something like a thread… from the rock, something cold and…"
"I felt something cold and heavy."
Hearing the children's words, Mujin looked at Elder Jo, who was standing behind them.
"Their martial talent is certainly not inferior to the Young Master's in his youth."
No matter how talented they were, Mujin had never dreamed they would begin to sense ki in just one day—no, in half a day.
It had taken him three full days, all while being nagged by his master.
'Master used to grumble that geniuses with innate martial talent learn quickly, but he'd picked up a dull one. Is this what the talent of a genius is like?'
"Elder Jo. Raise them well. They are truly precious children."
Even without the request from a man whose life was shortened by madness, Elder Jo was determined to raise the last two scions of the Flame Emperor into outstanding martial artists.
No matter the sacrifices required in the process.
'Even if I have to abandon the Young Master, I will take full responsibility for those two.'
He swallowed the words he couldn't say aloud and simply nodded.
Just then, the presence of someone rushing in was felt, followed by a loud voice.
"Young Master!!!"
Head Steward Do, his eyes red and swollen, flew into the courtyard using his movement arts.
"What's with you? Did something happen?"
"Are you alright? What on earth happened?"
"What?"
"Blood?!!"
Seeing the bloodstain on Mujin's sleeve, he made a fuss. Mujin replied as if it were nothing.
"It's not mine."
"What in the world happened?"
"What about?"
"The gambling den!"
The Head Steward was fuming.
"Oh, that. I just went and borrowed some money. You said our finances were tight. It costs a lot to raise children, you know. We have to make sure they're well-fed and all. We don't have many warriors left, so we have to feed them well too. We can't have the remaining ones running away."
With that, Mujin took out two money pouches from his robes and tossed them to the Head Steward.
"This is…"
The steward's eyes widened as he saw the yellow gold inside the pouches.
"Don't tell me you did that to them and stole this…"
"Nonsense! I told them clearly to record it in their ledgers. I will certainly repay that debt once I've settled things with the Cheonghwa Merchant Guild, so you don't need to worry. I'll take care of all the remaining debts. All you need to think about is feeding and clothing the warriors and my siblings well."
With those final words, Mujin turned and walked away. The Head Steward stared blankly at his retreating back.
"Wh-what in the world is this…"
"What happened to make you act like this?"
"Well…"
Seeing the two children listening to their conversation with sparkling eyes, the Head Steward switched to a telepathic message for the rest of his words.
As the Head Steward's story continued, Elder Jo's expression changed with every passing moment.
"Can such a form of madness even exist in this world?"
The next day, Mujin had Masok and a few warriors fetch the completed swords from the blacksmith.
Looking at the heavy swords in the wooden box placed in the courtyard of his residence, Mujin sighed.
"So, in the end, this is my only option."