Murim Login - Chapter 327

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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 327
“The most important matter remains unspoken, does it not?”
Ju Hwa-ran, her blade extended, was beautiful—and equally cold.
A frost-sharp aura rose from her center, directed toward a single person.
“Song Pyo-du.”
Following Ju Hwa-ran’s gaze, heads turned in unison. At the end of that collective attention stood a man.
A man who appeared to be in his early thirties, handsome enough by conventional standards, though his eyebrows rose savagely upward in an unfortunate manner.
As Song Il-seom’s lips twisted, a glacial voice emerged.
“You’re calling me now?”
The reactions of those still remaining in the tea house fell into precisely two categories.
Outsiders bewildered by their ignorance of Song Il-seom’s identity, and the escorts of Yongbong Escort Agency whose faces had hardened like stone.
The first to step forward was the Chief Escort Heo Jun, whose expression betrayed a subtle anger.
“You stand before the Young Master. Show proper respect.”
“I have shown sufficient courtesy. Yet you have repeated the same words for a decade now.”
“How dare you—!”
“Then dare I ask: why does the Chief Escort, who speaks to me thus, call the Young Master by name before all these people?”
“That is… well…”
“There is no need to answer. It matters not how the Chief Escort addresses the Young Master. But do not demand courtesy from me.”
Though his tone and manner were disagreeable, Song Il-seom’s words held undeniable truth.
As Heo Jun fell silent, Wol-hwa whispered to me.
“Young Master Jin, do you know that man well?”
“Who? Heo Jun? Or…?”
“Obviously the young and handsome one. I already know the Chief Escort of Yongbong Escort Agency.”
“…But why ask me? And of all people, a branch director of Haowen Sect in Shaanxi Province?”
“I appreciate the high regard, but what could a branch director barely six months into his post possibly know? Perhaps disciples of renowned major sects, but a mere escort? That exceeds even my knowledge.”
“A mere escort… Do you not know who this man is?”
“Hmm. Only that there is one young, ill-tempered escort among the Yongbong Three Escorts?”
Song Il-seom. His title: Escort Chief. That is all I knew of him.
Yet I possessed one piece of knowledge that Wol-hwa did not—the true measure of Song Il-seom’s martial prowess.
‘He is a master of considerable skill. Beyond the Ten Dragons and Phoenixes.’
Moving between the Martial World and the modern era, I had learned a singular truth repeatedly: levels are not absolute measures.
Some with high levels are incompetent fools, while others with lower levels prove far stronger.
In this regard, Song Il-seom was the genuine article. One could discern it merely from his gait and the subtle movements of his hands—that he was a swordsman possessed of extensive real combat experience and exceptional martial skill.
‘How many possess such mastery at that age?’
Regardless of whether he was a disciple of a renowned major sect, someone of his caliber should have earned renown throughout the Martial World long ago.
The saying “an awl in a bag cannot remain hidden” did not arise from mere fancy.
‘Yet no one knew of this awl’s existence. Not for a full decade.’
Thus, only one answer remained.
The awl had deliberately concealed itself—so thoroughly that even those of Yongbong Escort Agency, whom he had walked alongside for considerable time, remained ignorant of his true strength.
‘Behold…’
A sudden thought flashed through my mind. I couldn’t be certain yet, but one thing was clear—this man bore watching.
‘I’d like nothing more than to step in right now.’
But this was a knot that Ju Hwa-ran had to untie herself.
While I made final preparations to intervene at any moment, Heo Jun, who had paused briefly, pressed forward with renewed ferocity against Song Il-seom.
“Song Pyo-du. Or rather, Song Il-seom! Stop this nonsense and confess at once!”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
Since evasion was his game, I’d be direct. “Where have you hidden the Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s not too late. If you confess your crimes now and reveal the whereabouts of the Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng….”
“I said I don’t know.”
At Song Il-seom’s response, Heo Jun fixed him with a gaze that had grown cold and hollow.
“You truly intend to play it this way?”
“I return those words to you.”
“I gave you one last chance out of respect for our past bond… but it seems there’s no helping it.”
As Heo Jun raised his hand, some twenty escorts spread out in a wide formation, blocking all escape routes.
The two middle-aged escort captains, presumably the remaining members of the Yongbong Three Escorts, formed a triangular formation with Heo Jun, encircling Song Il-seom.
It was then, amid the tension stretched taut as a bowstring, that Ju Hwa-ran, who had been silent, suddenly spoke.
“Everyone, step back.”
“Hwa-ran. This man won’t confess willingly. Let us subdue him first….”
“Wait, Uncle Heo. I have something to ask.”
Whish!
With a rotating flick of her wrist, the blade of her serpentine sword struck one of the bamboo tablets stacked on the table and sent it flying toward Song Il-seom.
“What is this?”
“There were quite interesting records written here.”
Song Il-seom murmured after examining the contents inscribed on the tablet.
“This is….”
“Exactly. It’s a record of the escort missions Song Pyo-du oversaw these past two years.”
“You’ve collected only the failures.”
“Why do you think the Haowen Sect and the Beggar Clan gathered such information?”
“They must have suspected a connection to the Zhongnan Sect.”
“In the past two years, Song Pyo-du was responsible for fifteen escort missions. He failed ten of them, and each time our Yongbong Escort Agency had to pay substantial penalties.”
Ten failures out of fifteen missions. A success rate below fifty percent.
At that rate, even Song Il-seom’s own parents would suspect their son.
Ju Hwa-ran continued in an even tone.
“That’s not all. Looking at the missions where Song Pyo-du participated as a deputy captain, there are far too many suspicious irregularities.”
“I did my best each time, but I failed. That’s all I can tell the Agency Master.”
“That’s not enough.”
Whoosh, tap-tap-tap.
The sword flashed again, and some twenty bamboo tablets, caught in the blade’s wind, scattered through the air before falling at Song Il-seom’s feet.
“Are all of these also records connected to me? There are quite a lot.”
He clicked his tongue and leaned his sword against the wall, then picked up a bamboo slip and began to read.
“That… that bastard…”
Chief Escort Heo Jun looked as though he wanted to charge at the traitor that very instant, but at Ju Hwa-ran’s glance, he had to lower his blade.
The wait was not long.
“Yes, I see.”
As Song Il-seom murmured and set down the final bamboo slip, his fierce eyebrows rose sharply.
“How did you know?”
“It was subtle enough that one could overlook it by accident.”
“To discern it from this alone—you’re sharper than I expected. I thought you were merely a child… I underestimated you.”
“How lamentable.”
“What do you mean?”
“Though not a drop of blood was shared, I considered you family.”
“Family. Weak words. Time transforms even mountains and rivers—how much more so people.”
Somewhere along the way, Song Il-seom’s manner of speech had shifted from formal courtesy to complete casualness. Yet somehow, it all flowed as naturally as water.
Song Il-seom spoke with the ease of one who had shed suffocating clothes.
“So then, what will you do now?”
“Punish the guilty.”
“Children resemble their parents. Can you, bearing the blood of the Gentleman Sword, truly do this?”
Ju Hwa-ran answered coldly.
“It is what must be done, and I will see it through.”
Whirrrrr!
The soft sword infused with inner force shot upward sharply. Ju Hwa-ran’s stern face reflected in the transparent blade.
A low voice flowed from between her lips.
“No matter who the opponent may be.”
Shhwaaack!
Moving without warning, she was faster than anyone in the Yongbong Escort Agency.
Though still in her prime, Ju Hwa-ran was nonetheless a master of the highest caliber. The essence of speed permeated both her sword technique and her movement art.
Thwack!
The soft sword shot forth like a beam of light, piercing its target with precision.
The sound of flesh being torn, blood spraying upward, and a scream tearing from one man’s throat.
“Krraaaagh!”
Ju Hwa-ran’s eyelids trembled as she watched the man collapse to his knees, blood pouring from his wound.
The voice that followed was a question directed at one person—a rebuke toward him whom she had never once doubted.
“Why did you make such a choice, Uncle Heo?”
“Hwa… Hwa-ran.”
The man raised his head. There stood Chief Escort Heo Jun, his face drained of all color.
* * *
Shhwaaack!
Hair stood on end and the spine went cold. But by the time the faint sound of the blade cutting through air was perceived, everything was already too late.
Thwack!
The blade piercing through flesh was cold as ice, and the pain that followed burned like fire.
Chief Escort Heo Jun collapsed to his knees with a cry of agony.
Even as his mind whitened with shock, a single thought spun endlessly through his consciousness.
‘Everything has gone wrong.’
Though the unexpected arrival of Jin Tae-kyung had overturned the situation, it was not entirely unfavorable to him.
Over the past two years, he had gradually—sometimes boldly disguising his mistakes—secretly embezzled treasures worth thousands of silver taels.
Having already amassed a vast fortune, if the Yongbong Escort Agency prospered from this incident, his authority as Chief Escort would only grow stronger.
Moreover, he could avoid the pangs of conscience from betraying those who trusted him—a perfect outcome.
And yet….
‘Why now of all times!’
It would all be over if he simply severed Song Il-seom’s neck.
The man would have died as a traitor who betrayed the Yongbong Escort Agency and conspired with the Zhongnan Sect, and this matter could have been quietly concluded without further complications.
‘I even hid my true identity from the Zhongnan Sect itself as a precaution. How could they have discovered me?’
Pain. And shock greater than pain froze Heo Jun’s senses as a soft voice pierced through to his ears.
“Why did you make such a choice, Uncle Heo?”
Heo Jun’s body trembled as he bowed his head.
He knew the owner of that voice. He could not help but know it. It was none other than the child he had watched over since infancy.
She was his sworn brother’s most precious treasure, and the one niece he had once cherished more than his own children.
And… she was also the one who had driven a sword through his shoulder.
“Hwa-ran, Hwa-ran.”
Heo Jun slowly raised his head and met the gaze of Ju Hwa-ran looking down at him.
Seeing her eyes tremble with turmoil despite her composed voice, an emotion he had momentarily forgotten stirred within him.
It was hope.
‘I can survive.’
Heo Jun immediately perceived the wavering in Ju Hwa-ran’s emotions.
She was now torn between affection and betrayal. That conflict was his only remaining path to survival.
“I was wrong. It was all my fault!”
“Uncle.”
“Please spare me. I beg you!”
Heo Jun cried out desperately. He paid no heed to the shocked gazes of the escorts or the eyes of others upon learning of their trusted superior’s betrayal.
His dignity? The scorn of others? The dead feel none of that.
If he could survive this moment and see tomorrow’s sun, he could do anything.
“Ugh. Hwa-ran….”
Heo Jun groaned in pain. The soft sword that had pierced cleanly through his right shoulder—the hand gripping its hilt trembled visibly.
“Why don’t you try making excuses instead? Why you did it. Why you had no choice.”
If doing so would increase even slightly his chances of survival, Heo Jun would have already poured forth every excuse imaginable.
But he knew Ju Hwa-ran’s nature well. The fact that she had drawn her sword meant her resolve was already set. In such circumstances, clumsy excuses would only hasten his death.
He had to appeal unconditionally with tears, approaching her subtly.
“This inadequate uncle bears full responsibility for the oversight. There is nothing more I can say.”
Heo Jun hung his head low and reddened his eyes. The effect was certain. He felt the force in the blade weaken and continued speaking.
“I’m ashamed to admit it, but I once accepted a bribe. However, after my Elder Brother collapsed suddenly, the Zhongnan Sect used that against me and approached. I was… I was afraid of being cast out. I didn’t want to leave the escort agency I’d devoted my life to, and I believed the Zhongnan Sect’s promise that they wouldn’t harm you.”
“….”
“I resolved to comply just once, a single time, but by then I had already stepped into a quagmire from which there was no escape.”
“Is all of that truly the case?”
“How could I speak falsehoods?”
Yet despite his words, there was only one truth in what Heo Jun said.
That he had accepted a bribe.
It was he who had concealed his identity and approached the Zhongnan Sect shortly after the Sword Saint collapsed, and this clandestine relationship had persisted for two years.
‘If I can just survive this moment. Just this moment!’
Tears streamed down his face—not tears of remorse, but tears born of terror at death and a desperate will to live.
“Please, I beg your forgiveness…!”
At that desperate cry, the onlookers shook their heads in dismay. Countless escort agents turned away, unable to bear the sight.
But Ju Hwa-ran was different. She stared at Heo Jun with her lips pressed tight, then suddenly spoke.
“How did you steal the Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng? I was certain I never let it out of my sight.”
“That, that was….”
“Tell me the truth.”
“…I mixed a stupefying agent into the food. Everyone was exhausted, so even a small amount was sufficient.”
The stupefying agent was a type of narcotic that clouded the mind and induced sleep, and its effects were certain.
Even Ju Hwa-ran, a master at the pinnacle of cultivation, had succumbed to slumber, attributing her fatigue to the accumulated exhaustion of their journey.
“So that’s why you were standing outside my door that night.”
“I had to be careful not to make a sound as I left. That fool—no, Song Pyo-du—remained awake until dawn despite consuming the stupefying agent.”
Song Il-seom, who stood with his arms crossed against the wall, muttered in a flat tone.
“So that’s what the stupefying agent was. No wonder I felt so tired that day. Next time, try something more potent. Though I doubt there will be a next time for you.”
What a detestable wretch.
Heo Jun barely suppressed a curse that threatened to burst forth, his gaze fixed on Ju Hwa-ran.
“Hwang Bo-eom, that old man threatened me. He said if I didn’t switch out the Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng, he would kill me and my family and annihilate the Yongbong Escort Agency. I only wanted to protect everyone!”
“Then you made a grave miscalculation.”
“You’re right. I even went to my Elder Brother’s sickbed and confessed everything through tears. But, but I couldn’t undo the mistake.”
“A mistake?”
Ju Hwa-ran’s eyes flickered for only a moment at Father’s words.
Then she shook her head softly.
“You’re wrong. That wasn’t a mistake—it was a choice. Uncle.”
“Hwa-ran…!”
“Father often told me that every choice carries responsibility. Though he failed to prosper the family business passed down to him, he never once regretted his choices.”
Heo Jun suddenly realized it. The conflict and hesitation that had flickered in Ju Hwa-ran’s eyes were slowly fading away.
‘Surely not?’
No. It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be happening!
Tears and cold sweat streamed down Heo Jun’s cheeks.
He raised his voice in desperation.
“Just once more, one last chance! I am your father’s sworn brother and your uncle, am I not? Hwa-ran, please, for the sake of all the affection between us!”
“Jeong, you said?”
“Yes. I have shared thirty years of joy and sorrow with your Elder Brother. If your Father—if That Person were here, he would not take my life so easily!”
“Uncle Heo. No, Chief Escort Heo Jun.”
Heo Jun, who had been striking his head against the floor, lifted his gaze with a vacant expression.
There, in the eyes of his niece, was something he had never witnessed before—cold irises devoid of any hesitation.
“Your words are true. Had my father been here, he would have forgiven you. But….”
A soft voice continued toward the frozen Heo Jun.
“I am not the Gentleman Sword Ju Ho-gun, but Eunbihwa Ju Hwa-ran.”
And in the next instant, silvery sword light flooded Heo Jun’s vision.
Slash, scrape!

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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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