Murim Login - Chapter 444

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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 444
The Jeongal Family.
A renowned clan that appears at least once in every modern martial arts novel.
Among those bearing the Jeongal surname, there isn’t a single fool, nor is there anyone who stands out as exceptionally strong.
Despite being a Murim family, their martial arts feel more like a secondary skill, if you will.
And for good reason—the true power of the Jeongal Family flows not from the body, but from the mind.
A clan of wise men versed in broad scholarship, strategic cunning, and the mechanisms of intricate schemes.
Thus, they are called the Divine Mechanism Jeongal by the masses, monopolizing every intellectual position within the Murim.
Reading a novel where the Martial Alliance’s strategist doesn’t have a name beginning with Jeongal leaves you feeling oddly unsatisfied.
Perhaps it was this deeply ingrained image of the Jeongal Family that made me feel a strange sense of unfamiliarity as the warriors approached without hesitation.
Yet it wasn’t only unfamiliar emotions that stirred within me.
Crack, crack, crack!
The Jeongal Family’s warriors lined up like iron towers on both sides, and between them walked a single figure at a leisurely pace.
A slender young man draped in dazzlingly white robes opened his mouth.
“The heavens shone unusually bright last night—a sign that honored guests would arrive. I am the young master of the Jeongal Family…”
I raised my hand in delight and shouted.
“Gyun!”
“It’s not Gyun, but Jegal Gyun.”
A heavy silence fell in that instant.
The Jeongal Family’s warriors, not yet knowing who I was, looked at me as if I were a madman, while Jeok Cheon-gang regarded me with a hint of curiosity.
“You know him?”
“Yeah. I met him at the Seonglae Tournament last time. But I didn’t know he was the young master of the Jeongal Family.”
“A guy like you has friends?”
“Not friends. I just call them the three idiots…”
“Ahem, ahem! Ahem!”
Shin Ki Myo-ryong, Jegal Gyun, one of the three idiots I’d met at the Seonglae Tournament, hastily cut me off with a cough.
And without another word, he bowed toward Jeok Cheon-gang.
“Jegal Gyun, a junior of the Murim, respectfully greets you, Senior.”
Jeok Cheon-gang looked Jegal Gyun up and down before dropping a single remark.
“What’s your relationship to Gong-hu?”
“Pardon?”
“Je-gal Gong-hu, the Palm Fan Sage. The chief strategist of the Martial Alliance during the Jeongma Great War.”
I’d heard of the epithet and name of Je-gal Gong-hu, the Palm Fan Sage.
The foremost contributor who served as the mind of the Martial Alliance during the Jeongma Great War and reversed the grim tide of battle.
There was reason he was revered as one of the Ten Kings alongside other supreme masters.
‘Yet he calls such a man a fool.’
I’d grown accustomed to such displays, but for others, it was a new world.
Jin Wi-kyung swallowed hard, and the Jeongal Family’s warriors stood with their mouths agape, doubting their own ears.
Of course, our Fire King Jeok Cheon-gang paid no mind to such things. Blunt directness was the specialty of the Yeolhwa Sect.
“Why are you silent?”
With an already unpleasant expression, his furrowed brow made him look absolutely sinister—even Jegal Gyun, a madman with some reputation, stammered in bewilderment.
“H-he is my great-grandfather, sir.”
“Is that so? I thought I saw a resemblance. He certainly looks sharp-minded. And equally lacking in manners.”
“…!”
Behold the majesty of Red Sky River.
As a figure from the generation before the last, well over a hundred years old, even the patriarchs of prestigious martial sects dared not protest when he addressed them as “you” or “that fellow.”
He was the Bodhidharma of the Martial World—one who could crush opponents through sheer martial prowess and silence them through seniority.
As the atmosphere grew awkward, I quietly nudged Red Sky River in the ribs.
“Please, that’s enough.”
“What? Can’t this old man even say this much?”
“But he passed away ten years ago….”
“What do these young pups know? If I had died, Je-gal Gong-hu would have done exactly the same. We’ve been calling each other ‘old buddy’ for ages.”
“….”
“….”
Not sworn brothers, but “old buddy”—what an unusual choice of words.
Taking advantage of the moment when people flinched at this novel expression, Jin Wi-kyung, the first to regain his composure, opened his mouth toward Jegal Gyun.
“We are grateful for the Jeongal Family’s hospitality.”
Truly, a professional is a professional. Jegal Gyun, who had seemed like a screw loose during the Seonglae Tournament, now responded with the dignity befitting a family’s young master.
“You are too kind. I hope your journey here was not too arduous.”
“If one’s body and mind are at ease, how can one truly call oneself a martial artist….”
“Dreadfully inconvenient it was. To think you’d drag this old man all the way here. I’ll hear your reason, and if it’s trivial, I’ll incinerate you all with my flame divine technique.”
“Please, really! I’m begging you to stop!”
“This wretch dares to grab my sleeve! Let go! You brute with nothing but raw strength!”
As I restrained the suddenly accelerating Red Sky River, Jin Wi-kyung hastily continued.
“Though it may be rude, let us set aside unnecessary talk and depart with all haste.”
“A wise decision. Je-gal Moo-hu, who laid the foundation of the Main Residence, would surely have agreed, striking the armrest with approval.”
At the dramatic unity displayed by the two young masters, the officials and martial experts of the Jeongal Family cleared the path first, followed by the Water Thieves from the Water Dragon Stronghold who accompanied our group.
And I felt countless watchful gazes and whispers trailing our procession.
‘What on earth is going on?’
Was this the reason Jin Wi-kyung had said we needed to pass through Hubei?
My questions didn’t linger long. The moment we boarded the prepared carriage, Moon-kyung quietly spoke.
“It seems someone is missing.”
What?
Looking around, I finally noticed the absence of one person.
“Wait. Where did he go?”
“Here, benefactor!”
“…?”
When on earth did that bastard get over there?
Chung Poong, standing before an unfolded stall, was devouring freshly steamed fish, waving his hand excitedly.
“I’ll finish eating and come right away!”
“Stop spouting nonsense and get out here this instant!”
Please, I’m begging you.
Just for one day, let us live like human beings. Like human beings.
As my heart shattered into countless pieces, the carriage began to move forward.
Even as it raced down the well-maintained road and vanished from sight, the gazes of the onlookers clung to us like shadows.
* * *
Unlike the renowned sects of Sichuan Province—Emei, Qingcheng, and Tang Sect—which had established their bases in remote mountains or secluded locations, the Jeongal Family occupied the very heart of a grand thoroughfare.
Hundreds upon hundreds of people streamed past the carriage windows alone, a density of humanity that was staggering.
Their faces darkened by the sun, they bowed their heads respectfully upon spotting the carriage bearing the Jeongal Family crest.
“Why are there so many people here?”
Jegal Gyun, seated across from me, answered my murmur.
“The Yangtze River is the lifeblood of Hubei Province. It enriches the vast lands, drawing people from all directions, and with bountiful harvests year after year, smiles never leave their faces.”
“Is that so? Yet the people I saw at the ferry dock about an hour ago seemed to have forgotten how to smile entirely.”
“That is….”
Jegal Gyun fell silent, his expression turning grave in a way that didn’t suit him, and he averted his gaze.
“I shall explain once we arrive at the Main Residence.”
Something had happened. The boy who’d been chattering endlessly during the Seonglae Tournament now wore such a face—it was telling.
Given the atmosphere, I turned my gaze toward the window without pressing further.
‘Something is definitely amiss.’
And as time passed, my suspicion only deepened.
The usually negligent imperial soldiers were conducting thorough inspections of household permits at every checkpoint, and martial artists in civilian clothes were concealed among the common people.
The martial prowess I sensed from them was far from negligible, and for a moment Dark Heaven crossed my mind, but the next instant, a telepathic message from Red Sky River dispelled the concern entirely.
– They’re from the Jeongal Family. For some reason, they’re concealing their identities and moving in secret.
To go to such lengths in what is essentially the family’s front yard?
I suddenly recalled something from days past and asked.
– Old Master Noya, did you hear anything about this?
– What do you mean?
– Well, didn’t my Elder Brother step away with you before?
– He did.
– Didn’t you hear the reason for coming to Hubei Province then? About the Wudang Sect or the Jeongal Family?
Red Sky River’s brow furrowed slightly as he regarded me.
– What’s the old man going to do with that information?
– Pardon?
– You go when you’re told to go. Why are you prying into every detail? I simply urged you to move as quickly as possible. Otherwise, I’d have sunk the entire Fast Ship fleet.
– …Yes, understood.
I wasn’t sure whether to call that cool or fiery.
Shaking my head with a wry smile, I glanced sideways at Moon-kyung.
The boy’s eyebrows rose slightly as he conversed brightly with Hyuk Moo-jin, showing no sign of annoyance.
A subtle telepathic message reached my ears.
– What.
– …I haven’t said anything yet.
– Don’t stare at me pointlessly. Unless you wish to see tomorrow’s sunrise.
How could I breathe properly when gripped by such fear?
I exhaled a quiet sigh and turned my gaze toward the latticed window of the carriage.
Yongzhong Mountain, also called Fulong Mountain—where the greatest strategist of an era, who wrote history itself, had once lived in seclusion.
And upon the vast expanse of land, the Jeongal Family residence came into view.
‘So they say he’s the wealthiest magnate in all of Hubei Province.’
Je-gal Gong-myung, the family’s ancestor, was renowned for his frugality, yet his descendants did not devote their innate brilliance solely to scholarship and institutional reform.
They had accumulated immense wealth by fully exploiting the fertile lands that yielded bountiful harvests year after year and the waters of the Yangtze River that traversed all of Hubei Province.
Even before passing through the Jeongal Family’s main gate, I began to grasp the magnitude of their fortune.
“Why aren’t you getting down? Haven’t we arrived?”
Jegal Gyun responded as though questioning what I meant.
“Pardon? From here to the Inner Hall on foot would take quite some time. We must pass through seven more gates, so please remain seated.”
“…That much?”
“This is actually the shortened route. The Main Residence suffered considerable damage during the Jeongma Tournament.”
“Insane. They’re raking in gold and silver like they’re using a rake. Did the ancestor’s teachings about living frugally not exist? Wasn’t he supposed to be some paragon of integrity?”
Jegal Gyun answered without changing his expression, his voice grave.
“Scholarly pursuits don’t come cheap either. Books are extraordinarily expensive. Moreover, our family also sponsors numerous scholars.”
….
“One must study in comfortable circumstances to pass the civil examinations and make progress in martial arts. Hunger clouds the mind and breeds only impatience.”
“Ah, well.”
It differed from what I’d expected, but upon reflection, each point held merit.
Jegal Gyun, having methodically explained the importance of capital, concluded his lengthy discourse by noting that his ancestor Je-gal Gong-myung himself had been born with a silver spoon.
By then, the carriage had passed through a total of eight gates and was entering the Inner Hall.
“Please descend now and follow me. The Family Head awaits you.”
“The Family Head, you say….”
“He is my father.”
I had heard this from Red Sky River before.
During the Jeongma Tournament, Je-gal Gong-hu, who lost his only son, passed the position of Deputy Family Head to his young grandson according to the principle of eldest son succession.
That young grandson is Je-gal Poong, the current Family Head of the Jeongal Family and Jegal Gyun’s father—known as the Reclusive Guest.
“Family Head. I have brought the honored guests.”
With a serious voice stripped of all levity, the firmly closed door slid open smoothly.

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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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