Murim Login - Chapter 616

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

Chapter 616
To become a successful merchant in the Murim meant surviving fierce competition.
In that sense, the maps created by the Ma Bang as they traveled between the Sae Oe and Central Plains were sufficient evidence for why they had accumulated such vast wealth.
“This is the place. Faint, but unmistakably bearing the Ma Bang’s mark.”
“Well, I never knew a path existed in such a location.”
Swift, precise, yet concealed shortcuts hidden throughout the Central Plains.
Though some paths had completely vanished with the passage of time, and the hidden routes were treacherously difficult, they presented no significant obstacle to us.
“Captain, the slope here is far too steep, isn’t it?”
“It is. The path is narrow too. But we must proceed regardless.”
“Then it seems we’ll have no choice but to abandon the horses.”
“Abandon them? We’ll carry them instead.”
“Pardon?”
Let me correct myself. Not ‘us’—’me’.
And those who heard my words all widened their eyes in astonishment.
“What did you say?”
“They’re not massive war horses, and since we procured them from the Steppes, they’re hardly light either.”
“…Even if they were light, is that actually possible?”
It was possible. Far easier than I’d anticipated, in fact.
Already possessing strength that far exceeded human limits, I carried two horses with ease, striding forward, while Tae-san, though not my equal but a natural strongman with an impressive build, managed three.
“Gak-ju. Tae-san. Heavy. We’ll have to leave one here. No, abandon it and move on.”
“…Swallow your saliva and say that again.”
The real problem was less the weight and more that beast’s insatiable appetite.
And as time and distance diminished noticeably, greater obstacles awaited us ahead.
“According to the map, there should definitely be a path ahead. Yet…”
“The path has vanished. Or more precisely, it’s been blocked.”
“Song’s assessment is correct. I heard that a landslide occurred in the vicinity a couple of months ago, and it appears that’s when this became obstructed.”
“It seems we have no choice but to turn back this time. According to the map, we’d need to travel at least ten li by this route, but clearing a buried path of such distance is nonsensical… Gak-ju, what are you doing right now?”
“Preparing to clear the path.”
“What?”
“It’s not like we’re boring through the mountain itself. Just clearing away some earth and moving rocks and boulders—it should be passable, shouldn’t it? You said it hasn’t been that long?”
“Well, that’s true, but…”
“As the saying goes, when the body is strong, the mind needn’t labor.”
“…The more I hear it, the stranger it sounds. Isn’t it usually the opposite?”
“Yes, usually it is.”
Carrying horses while ascending mountains, excavating buried paths as we walked and ran for several days.
We crossed Hubei and reached Sichuan at a breakneck pace.
All of this was possible thanks to the shortcuts once shared only by a handful of old Ma Bang members, and Ju Hwa-ran, who retained all the records left by her maternal grandfather, known as Pyo Wang.
‘I never imagined we’d arrive this quickly.’
This speed without even utilizing waterways.
Of course, my own efforts in making the impossible possible played no small role, but Ju Hwa-ran fulfilled her responsibilities perfectly, just as she had promised before entering the Fire Dragon Pavilion.
No, this level of achievement is beyond what I expected.
‘Martial arts alone truly aren’t everything.’
Even if I were the greatest master in existence, I couldn’t accomplish such feats. I offered Ju Hwa-ran my genuine admiration.
“Remarkable. Truly, only you could do such a thing.”
“I’ll go feed the horse some hay.”
“What? No, that doesn’t make sense. It’s been ages since the horse ate hay… Ju Hwa-ran? Ju Hwa-ran?”
What on earth is this?
At this point, I couldn’t tell if she wasn’t hearing me or simply choosing not to listen.
As I watched Ju Hwa-ran vanish in a flurry, employing her movement technique, I felt a gaze from beside me and turned my head.
Whoosh!
It was a movement swift as lightning, but it couldn’t escape my keen eye. I fixed the culprit with a suspicious stare.
“You.”
A flinch.
“I saw that. Don’t pretend you didn’t.”
At my confident words, Song Il-seom, who had been sitting by the water’s edge, looked around with an awkward expression.
“Hmm. Are you perhaps speaking to me?”
“Sorry, but you’re the only one around here. And you know your expression looks really strange, right?”
“…I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“If you were watching, then you were watching. Why hide it like that? And that blade of yours—you’re sharpening it every chance you get. By the time we reach the Southern Wilderness, it’ll be a needle.”
Splash.
Song Il-seom, having poured water onto the blade that gleamed like a mirror from such meticulous care, hardened his expression as he replied.
“Don’t speak carelessly. This weapon holds special meaning for me.”
He wasn’t one for expressive faces to begin with, but seeing him grow so stern suggested there was something to it.
‘Well, he certainly has his share of history.’
It’s wrong to wound another’s heart with careless words.
Realizing I’d made a thoughtless mistake, I hesitated, then opened my mouth carefully with sincere apology.
“Ah. Is it a family heirloom passed down through generations?”
“That can’t be. I heard the family couldn’t even bring out a single martial manual. My grandmother never learned martial arts in her entire life. That she survived that war at all was a miracle.”
“Well, for a family blade, it did look quite worn. Then it’s your father’s keepsake?”
“No, it’s not that either.”
Song Il-seom, a wistful smile gracing his lips as if reminiscing better days, continued while wiping the blade clean.
“I received this blade when I was young, working as a sword attendant for some third-rate bandits. It was with this that I killed for the first time. I must have been twelve.”
“…Ah, I see.”
Emotional wounds are the worst.
The apology that had begun to surface melted away like spring snow.
After all, he was born into the Murim from the start. Song Il-seom, treasuring the memory of his first murder… he truly seemed mad.
‘Yes. This one’s definitely not in his right mind either.’
The Murim harbored many types of people, but generally they were all lunatics.
Perhaps it was inevitable—the Murim itself was a place that no sane person could endure.
Death while eating. Death while fighting. Even if you barely survived, your wounds would fester and you’d die.
Even after enduring hardship to become a master, the Murim is a place where one can die from demonic possession during training.
‘What was the title again? In the martial arts novels I read before, there were scenes of peaceful retirement through the Golden Basin Hand Washing ceremony.’
Only after entering the Murim did I realize that novels are, after all, merely novels.
Jeok Cheon-gang had once told me this when I asked him about the Golden Basin Hand Washing ceremony.
‘Golden Basin Hand Washing? Simple enough.’
‘Oh. It’s easy?’
‘Yes. First, buy a golden basin. Invite plenty of close acquaintances too.’
‘From the start, it reeks of social climbing and capitalism, but I suppose I understand. What comes next?’
‘Wash your hands with a peaceful mind. Of course, the moment you release your grip on your weapon, the assassins lurking among your acquaintances will hurl their blades.’
‘Ah….’
‘And one more thing. That person you thought was an acquaintance might actually be an assassin. How about that? Not so simple after all, is it?’
Like the wise words of my dear Grandfather, that’s how the Murim truly is.
Golden Basin Hand Washing or whatever nonsense—most martial artists should be grateful simply to wake up in the morning and wash their faces with ice water.
Perhaps the next day, instead of ice water, they might bathe in the waters of the River of Three Paths.
Of course, if it comes to that, it does resemble the Golden Basin Hand Washing in a sense. The only difference is whether one’s breath continues or stops.
‘It’s not like some “Number One Murim Escape” show or anything.’
Though it’s an already-defunct classic program, it would be a guaranteed smash hit if brought to the Murim.
Assuming television had been distributed, the viewership might even hit 107% like Russian presidential election turnout.
A master from the Demonic Heretical Way, hired as an experimental expert, would conduct the experiment directly with a good-natured smile.
‘Now then, fellow Murim practitioners. What happens if we dodge this technique like this?’
Splat.
‘You see? Dead, right? Hehehehe.’
The test subjects wouldn’t have any lives left to spare….
Though it’s all imagination, the Murim is a place where it could become reality the moment television arrives.
I have to survive in this insane world, leading these madmen, fighting alongside these madmen.
“…Sigh.”
Just as I was silently gazing at the river, pitying myself anew, Song Il-seom suddenly spoke up.
“You were actually watching.”
“Hm? Watching what?”
“What happened just now. It seemed like you didn’t answer.”
I shrugged and replied, wondering what he was getting at.
“I already knew without you saying it. But why were you staring?”
“Just because. I heard the sound, so I looked.”
“Be more honest.”
“Your behavior and words were so foolish I couldn’t help but stare.”
“…Oh, that’s too honest.”
“But it’s the truth. The more you say such things, the more Miss Ju-hwa avoids you.”
For some reason, I felt wronged and replied.
“What did I even do? I was simply expressing genuine admiration and complimenting her.”
“Even a stray dog wouldn’t believe that.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Stop it. It’s not funny.”
“I haven’t found it funny since the beginning.”
“Fine. Let’s say that’s the case.”
Song Il-seom, who had been chuckling as if he’d heard a joke, looked at my expression and asked in a flat tone.
“Is it really true?”
“I’m telling you it’s true.”
“Not a shred of falsehood—you’re saying you genuinely don’t understand what your words and actions mean, or why Ju-hwa always leaves whenever you do?”
“I swear by the heavens, I stake my manhood on it.”
“Ha. You’re staking your own manhood, not Hyuk Moo-jin’s… That’s certainly the truth.”
The verification process seemed odd somehow, but since my sincerity had come through, I’d let it pass.
Now fully believing my words, Song Il-seom was gazing at me with eyes as if he’d just witnessed a unicorn.
“How can a person be like this?”
“What?”
“Wasn’t your old epithet the Night King? Then at minimum, you should know the basics—it’s only natural.”
“….”
How much longer must I clean up the mess left behind by my dissolute predecessor? I could grudgingly admit to being the King of Adult Films, but the Night King?
“…It’s a long story.”
Song Il-seom nodded at my sigh-laden response.
“Of course it would be. You must have spent many long nights.”
“Hey, you bastard. Draw your blade. You’re dead today.”
“Unfortunately, that’ll have to wait. Thanks to you, I need to find an employer who hasn’t shown up even after a quarter of an hour.”
“Did you forget? I’m the Master of Fire Dragon Pavilion. Your direct superior.”
“But it’s my employer who pays me in silver. My duty is to protect that employer.”
Song Il-seom, having sheathed his well-polished willow-leaf blade at his waist, rose from the waterside.
Step. Step. Without a word of farewell, his figure treading through sand and gravel suddenly came to a halt.
“If you don’t understand why Ju-hwa acts that way, then think it through with that dull perception of yours. You have to find the answer yourself.”
“What?”
“She appears strong, but she carries much pain. I hope she never has to suffer wounds again, nor face a meaningless death.”
That was all.
Watching Song Il-seom’s retreating figure as he resumed walking as if nothing had happened, a thought suddenly struck me.
Was it truly the silver that kept that man at Ju Hwa-ran’s side all this time?
And before I could find an answer to that question, a sound resonated across the rippling Yangtze River in Sichuan.
Boom. Boom-boom. Boom!
The powerful beat of drums and the sharp, swift prow cutting through the water.
As a dozen Fast Ships emerged through the mist, their flags bearing the Water Dragon Stronghold’s emblem, I muttered to myself.
“The taxi’s here.”

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