Murim Login - Chapter 139

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 139
Less than two hours after Jin Tae-kyung’s carriage departed, the streets of Taewon erupted into fervent excitement once more.
Fifty mounted riders surrounded the four-horse carriage, their eyes blazing with the intensity of seasoned martial artists.
“That is….”
“The Taewon Jin Family!”
“Waaaaah!”
“First the Shanxi Sleeping Dragon, now the Taewon Jin Family? We’re truly feasting our eyes today.”
Inside the carriage, Jin Wi-kyung’s ears perked up at the cheers erupting from all directions.
“Moo-kyung, did you hear that just now?”
Jin Moo-kyung nodded while stifling a yawn.
“Yes, I heard it.”
“Wi Paeng, you as well?”
Wi Paeng replied with an expression of weary resignation.
“Whether I heard or not doesn’t concern you anyway. Just tell us what you want to say.”
“Why must you always speak that way? Does it ease your mind?”
“Ease my mind? I look like I’m about to develop heart disease. So what is it you wish to say?”
“The people were saying that Tae-kyung….”
“This is driving me mad.”
Jin Wi-kyung pretended not to hear Wi Paeng’s muttering and continued.
“It seems he’s attending a luncheon with the City Lord. He may have already arrived by now.”
“He’s definitely arrived. It’s practically next door.”
“I do hope nothing troublesome occurs.”
“The Third Young Master isn’t some helpless child left by the riverbank. He’s surely being treated with the utmost hospitality—so please set your worries aside.”
“Well, he’s always been rather carefree.”
Wi Paeng’s eyes widened as if hearing complete nonsense.
“Carefree? In this case, wouldn’t reckless be more accurate?”
“Ahem.”
“You could simply say you’re worried he’ll cause trouble, but why must you always——”
“Close that mouth of yours.”
“Very well. I’ll say nothing more, so if you’re truly concerned, why not ask the Second Young Master over there?”
At Wi Paeng’s indifferent response, Jin Wi-kyung’s gaze shifted slightly to the side.
In truth, Wi Paeng’s suggestion was sound. Among them, only Jin Moo-kyung had ever met the current Provincial Governor of Shanxi face-to-face.
‘The problem is he won’t say anything more.’
Jin Moo-kyung, who had dismissed his luncheon with the Provincial Governor of Shanxi with merely a single word—”dreadful”—had since sealed his lips firmly shut.
“Moo-kyung, perhaps….”
Before he could finish, an answer came.
“There should be no problems.”
Just as Jin Wi-kyung released a relieved sigh at this curt response, Jin Moo-kyung added a single phrase.
“Assuming his temperament remains favorable.”
“…His temperament? What do you mean by that all of a sudden?”
A royal banquet hosted by the City Lord himself. Was he truly suggesting that maggot-infested food would be served at such a grand affair?
In that moment of bewilderment, I caught sight of Jin Moo-kyung’s face twisting into a slow, deliberate sneer.
“Oh, there is. A creature far more repugnant than any maggot.”
* * *
The Shanxi Provincial Government, where the City Lord resided, had long since transcended the mere form of a private residence.
Even the Taewon Jin Family and the Hengshan Sword Sect I’d visited not long ago were impressive in scale, yet they paled in comparison to this.
‘What should I even call this? A fortress? A citadel?’
I’d known the continental scale was vast, but this exceeded even my imagination.
Not only I, but Chung Poong and the other disciples gaped openly as we surveyed our surroundings. The Royal Official then smiled knowingly.
“What do you think?”
“It’s vast. Incredibly vast.”
“It can comfortably house thousands, and that’s being conservative. In times of war, should we need to defend it, there’s enough grain stored to sustain us for a decade.”
The Royal Official pointed out several massive granaries in succession, adding that each was filled to capacity.
“All of them are completely full?”
“Of course.”
The Royal Official continued, his smile brimming with pride like a resident of a Gangnam apartment complex.
“Provincial governments are typically built large and fortified in preparation for war, but this scale is unusual even for that.”
“Then…?”
“Have you already forgotten who resides here?”
“Ah.”
Right. Not merely a City Lord, but royalty—and moreover, a legitimate king bearing the formal title itself.
“Then this is a royal palace?”
“Precisely so.”
We continued moving forward like provincial bumpkins, gawking at everything around us.
Servants and attendants bustled about wherever my gaze fell, while elite soldiers with rigid discipline stood watch or engaged in sparring matches at the Training Ground.
‘Their standard is quite impressive.’
What surprised me most was the exceptional quality of these soldiers.
Most of those standing guard hovered around level 20, and the commanders clad in respectable armor easily surpassed the first rank.
‘Well, there’s no law forbidding them from cultivating martial arts that already exist.’
If anything, a stronger military should be encouraged.
I continued observing the Training Ground from the corner of my eye as we walked.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
“Thrust!”
“Hyah!”
It was already high noon, the sun at its zenith.
Hundreds of spear blades glinted in rhythm with the war drums, and the soldiers moved as one body, assembling and dispersing with perfect synchronization.
Watching them train in formation, tactics, and strategy, a single word suddenly came to mind.
‘A Raid Team.’
Standardized weapons. The cohesion achieved through systematic training would unleash devastating power in large-scale group combat.
‘Though individually, they’d fall short of true Murim practitioners.’
Dozens against dozens might be manageable, but when hundreds clash with hundreds, or thousands with thousands, even a master at the peak of their power cannot turn the tide of battle.
That is the true terror of a trained collective force.
‘So this is how they compensate for inferior individual skill—through sheer numbers and discipline.’
Truly befitting a unified empire that has dominated vast territories for centuries.
Perhaps this very reason also played a role in why even those proud Murim masters acknowledged themselves as subjects of a great power.
But then again….
‘What good is this? Are we supposed to trade it for candy?’
Just the soldiers visible before my eyes number in the hundreds. If even a fraction of them had been dispatched to Northern Shanxi, the Red Wind Bandits would have been utterly annihilated long ago.
‘Damn it. Some of us nearly died dealing with them.’
Witnessing the incompetence of the authorities, I suddenly find myself entering a moment of clarity.
What good is possessing the finest blade in the world if it never leaves its sheath? It’s no better than a club.
Just as I’m internally hurling curses, the Royal Official speaks up.
“Well then, we’ve nearly arrived.”
He was right. As dozens of towering pillars line the long corridor and a massive iron gate comes into view at its end, tense sighs escape from both sides.
“Sigh…”
“Phew. What should we do, Young Master Jeong? I’m so nervous.”
“Don’t worry. I’m here with you.”
“…This is ridiculous.”
They say good things come to those who wait, but I have no idea how our eyes met in the midst of all this.
Did affection bloom from taking a beating together?
‘What kind of country is this?’
Unable to hide my discomfort as a two-star solo operative, Chung Poong, who had been walking with a cheerful gait, asked in a bright voice.
“Is there a king inside there?”
At that single word—king—the junior members of the Sanseo Five Gates fell silent with their mouths agape, and the Royal Official walking ahead jumped as if stung by a wasp.
“Wha, a king?! How disrespectful!”
“What? Isn’t it a king?”
“It’s not a king! Well, of course it’s a king!”
“Then it is a king, isn’t it?”
“No, that’s not what I mean…!”
This is heading one of two ways: either the Royal Official collapses from hypertension, or he invokes charges of treason and summons the hundreds of soldiers currently training at the Training Ground.
Since I want neither outcome, I step in to mediate.
“Let’s all calm down for a moment, and Young Master Chung.”
“Yes, my benefactor.”
“You cannot say ‘king.’ You must say ‘Your Majesty.’ Isn’t that right?”
The last question is directed at the Royal Official. He glares at Chung Poong and nods vigorously.
“Absolutely! It must be so!”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, indeed.”
Chung Poong blinks his clear eyes.
“Why?”
“…Jin Young Master. Do we really have to take this fellow, or rather, this person with us?”
“I don’t mind being left behind. Would that be alright with you?”
The Royal Official fell silent for a moment.
If he took five men without Chung Poong, he’d face censure from his superiors and lose his position, but if Chung Poong misspoke even once, his head would roll.
After a brief pause, when he spoke again, his face had aged a decade.
“…Let’s just go.”
Chung Poong broke into a wide grin.
“Thank you. If I get the chance, I’ll put in a good word with the King—I mean, His Majesty.”
“Please, just keep your mouth shut about that matter.”
As the Royal Official rattled off earnest pleas and precautions we should take, we finally arrived at the iron gate.
From behind the massive, imposing iron door, muffled voices were drifting out.
‘Military Commander, Huashan Sect, insult?’
With only fragmented words to go on, I couldn’t begin to guess what conversation was taking place. But….
‘The atmosphere doesn’t feel right at all.’
Just as that intuition struck me—that this wasn’t exactly a comfortable place to share a meal—the figure standing before the iron gate cried out loudly.
“The rising talents of Shanxi’s Murim seek an audience!”
Creak, creak, creak.
As the announcement echoed, the iron gate began to swing open.
The Royal Official cast a worried glance and offered one final warning, his eyes darting sideways at Chung Poong.
“Just keep that man’s mouth shut.”
“…Ah, yes.”
He must be genuinely concerned.
* * *
The moment we stepped inside, my vision flooded with light.
The lavishly appointed Great Hall was filled with the kind of expansive tables and abundance of food you’d only see in movies set in magical academies.
And the instant I laid eyes on the five people already present, a single thought struck me like lightning.
‘We’re in trouble.’
I pride myself on reading the room—I’ve eaten enough humble pie as an F-rank Hunter that I can assess the atmosphere in 0.1 seconds.
Just like now.
‘The atmosphere is absolutely terrible.’
I could feel the air drawn taut around those five figures. I’d sensed something amiss from outside, but this was worse than I’d thought.
It was a mercy they were all unarmed—if anyone had so much as a blade at their hip, steel would be clashing by now.
“This is…shall we end our reunion now that guests have arrived?”
It was a man with a delicate voice who dispersed the suffocating tension.
Or was he a man? His frame was so slender I might have mistaken him for a woman, his complexion pale as porcelain, his lips stained as if dyed crimson.
[Lv.22 Hong Jin]
He smiled toward me.
“What a handsome young man, befitting a rising talent of the martial world. I hear a young hero from the Taewon Jin Family was coming today—could it be…?”
This was the moment for introductions. I cupped my fist toward the five figures.
“I am Jin Tae-kyung of the Taewon Jin Family.”
In an instant, the oppressive atmosphere lifted considerably. Surprise painted itself across the faces of the four men, overlaying traces of displeasure and mockery.
“If you’re Jin Tae-kyung of the Taewon Jin Family….”
A giant draped in black martial robes muttered to himself.
From the moment I first saw him, he radiated an unmistakable aura of raw masculinity—his name was Lee Poong, and the number 68 floated above his head as his level.
‘Is he affiliated with the Military Gate?’
One couldn’t judge everything from a first meeting, but his presence screamed it. A proud, rigid soldier—that was my initial impression of him.
‘Lee Poong, Lee Poong… Level 68 means… top-tier, perhaps?’
Just as I was committing his name and level to memory, the other three men reacted.
“Hmm. That guy is the Shanxi Sleeping Dragon?”
“He’s young? No, really young.”
“He doesn’t seem nearly as formidable as the rumors suggest….”
Their gazes held surprise, a hint of jealousy, and a subtle sense of superiority as they studied me with curiosity.
In situations like this, there’s usually no need to ask about the other person’s identity. They’re the type who can’t wait to boast about themselves.
“My apologies for the late introduction, junior.”
A sharp-eyed man spoke with a smirk. The other two stood with arms crossed, regarding me like one might look at a cute chick.
‘This feels oddly unpleasant.’
What kind of people were these, acting so presumptuous with their seniority?
The question didn’t linger long before it was answered.
“Ah, you wouldn’t know yet. We came from Shaanxi. The Zhongnan Sect from Shaanxi—ever heard of it?”
My jaw dropped involuntarily.
“The, the Zhongnan Sect? That Zhongnan Sect?”
Smiles bloomed across all three of their faces.
“Haha, look how shocked this guy is.”
“Right?”
“Do you know our sect well?”
I exclaimed with unbridled excitement.
“I do! I know it well! I’ve enjoyed watching it so much!”
“You know us well, so we’re pleased… wait, enjoyed watching?”
“Well, of course you’d naturally dominate….”
I stopped mid-sentence, suddenly realizing something.
Oh right. This wasn’t a novel.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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