Murim School Record - Chapter 45

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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 45: Into the Forest of Blades (1)

Dust lay thick across the shoulders and head of the man in black, as if he’d traveled a long road.
Watching the passing carriages, he smiled faintly—with an expression of unmistakable longing.
As the Main Gate drew near, the eyes of the Wei Sa began to gleam.
All cargo entered through Jeok San Pyo Guk first before departing toward its final destination.
This meant the storehouse held valuable goods in abundance—and consequently, thieves slipped in far more often than one might hope.
With the man’s arrival, tension rippled through the Pyo Sa leaving the storehouse and the Wei Sa who’d been exchanging cheerful farewells.
No thief would walk through the Main Gate in broad daylight so brazenly, yet their eyes kept drifting toward him.
As he drew closer, the Wei Sa moved to block his path.
Snap.
The man stopped.
Without a word, he regarded the Wei Sa standing before him—more than three of them.
Whoosh.
The corners of his lips curved upward slightly.
He seemed to know these men.
Yet the Wei Sa appeared not to recognize him, studying him for a long moment, though some of the tension in their faces began to waver.
Uncertain.
Confused.
As if they’d seen him before, yet his face was somehow different.

The man they knew bore spiderweb scars crisscrossing his face, but this one had only a small, dumpling-sized scar above his right eyebrow.
Whether it was a burn or a blow from a stone, they couldn’t say—it was hideous enough, yet the overall effect was not one of malice.
“State your business at Jeok San Pyo Guk.”
While cargo merchants came often enough to commission shipments, this man bore none of their marks.
“It seems I’ve taken quite a beating, haven’t I, brother?”
Bang.
The eyes of the large man with the right-side scar widened.
He knew this person.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Yi Muo-baek, your junior.”
“Yi…Yi Muo-baek?”
Among the Pyo Du of Jeok San Pyo Guk, there was only one person who called him brother.
Everything here was governed by strict hierarchy.
Whether elder or younger by age, one owed proper respect to those of higher rank—such was the order of Jeok San Pyo Guk.
That stern order had been audaciously broken by one person alone.
“You’re…truly saying you’re Muo-baek?”
“This scar may have marred my handsome face, but I am indeed Yi Muo-baek.”
“Now that I think of it, that’s right—it’s our Pyo Du.”
Jin Bang, his fellow Wei Sa and subordinate, cried out.
“Brother!”
“Muo-baek!”
Seok Du-sang pulled Yi Muo-baek into a fierce embrace.
“Ugh! So it’s you, my brother. Let me see your face.”
Seok Du-sang made a show of weeping as he examined Yi Muo-baek’s face.
“What in heaven’s name is this terrible scar? Good grief, just looking at it frightens me.”
Yi Muo-baek gently pushed Seok Du-sang away and replied.
“A burn.”
“Of course. I suspected as much—burns are terrifying, after all. Blade wounds can be treated, but burns are a different matter entirely.”
“Indeed.”
“Who did this? What devil inflicted such a wound? Was this from that recent affair?”
The carriage and horses had already returned.
Everyone was astonished.
It was the first time a carriage and cargo had returned safely after the deaths of Pyo Sa and Pyo Du.
“It was Ji-un who brought them back?”
Remarkably, the one who had brought them was none other than Suk Ji-un.
“Where is Suk Ji-un?”
Yi Muo-baek asked urgently.
“He must have gone out on an errand. Look into it.”
“Understood.”
Jin Bang, a Wei Sa, quickly disappeared inside.

Before coming here, Yi Muo-baek had visited the scene of the incident.
The corpses had been reduced to bone.
Animals had picked them clean entirely.
With only bones to work from, there was no way to identify anyone—yet Yi Muo-baek had never imagined Suk Ji-un might still be alive.
“I hear the Guk Ju was terribly grief-stricken upon learning that his younger brother had met such an end.”
Dan Hou-jam, the Guk Ju of Jeok San Pyo Guk.
He didn’t know much about him.
Only that, alongside the O Ho Pyo Guk, he controlled half the cargo market of Joong Won, and that he was a self-made man who had built Jeok San Pyo Guk from nothing with his own hands—a figure of legendary ascent.
“Wei Sa Jang.”
Jin Bang came running back in.
“I thought he’d gone out, but word is he’s at the Tong Yi Gak right now.”
The Tong Yi Gak was an establishment where injured or ailing Pyo Sa received treatment.
“I should go in and see him then.”
“Ah, my brother’s back. Truly gladdening. Truly wonderful.”
Seok Du-sang’s eyes glistened with tears.
Though his younger brother, Yi Muo-baek treated him as if he were his own elder.
A Wei Sa’s salary amounted to little more than pocket change.
But a Pyo Du—that was something else entirely, incomparable to their station.
Yi Muo-baek often took him out, bought him drinks, and even sent gifts for his children.
“He’s an impressive man, no matter how many times I see him.”
“If we’re counting impressive, he’s second to none in all the land.”
Seok Du-sang spoke as he watched Yi Muo-baek walk away.
“How did he survive? According to Suk Ji-un, there was a complete sweep—everyone dead.”
Curiosity gnawed at him.

In the courtyard before the Tong Yi Gak, about a dozen patients sat scattered in small groups, conversing.
All of them were Pyo Sa of Jeok San Pyo Guk.
The injuries to Pyo Sa arose almost invariably from clashes with bandits and brigands during cargo transport.
Though they occasionally suffered endemic illness, trauma cases dominated—as evidenced by the bandages wound about their legs, arms, and heads.
When Yi Muo-baek entered, the patients all turned to look.
A sharp intake of breath.
Several of the patients startled at the sight of the large scar branded above his right eyebrow.
The scar lent his face a ferocious, brutal aspect.
Yi Muo-baek passed through in silence, entering the inner hall.
Walking down the corridor, he opened a door and stepped into a spacious room crowded with beds; four patients lay upon them.
Yi Muo-baek surveyed the room and spotted a patient by the window, gazing at the ceiling, his two hands sweeping through deliberate motions. He approached.
“Practicing the Chilseong Geombeop, are you?”
Thump.
The patient ceased his hand movements and jerked his head around sharply.
Seeing Yi Muo-baek looming over him with that enormous scar embedded above his eyebrow, he cried out.
“Pyo—Pyo Du!”
He recognized him at once and pushed himself up on his elbows—it was Suk Ji-un.
“How… how is this possible?”
Suk Ji-un was at a loss for words.
Yi Muo-baek’s gaze fell to Suk Ji-un’s left leg, which was wrapped entirely in bandages.
“The wound runs deep, then?”
“Pyo Du, what happened to you? I reported you dead—I thought you were dead.”
Suk Ji-un’s voice was loud, and all the patients lying in the beds turned their heads.
“Is that not Yi Muo-baek?”
At the familiar voice, Yi Muo-baek turned.
It was Wi Cheong-cheon.
The man who had rescued him outside the Okmukkwan in the Desert long ago.
Ten freight wagons had been ambushed by an unidentified gang and completely wiped out, yet he had survived through the Cheon Woo Shin Jo and was now lying down again as a wounded man.
“What happened?”
Yi Muo-baek asked, drawing closer.
“I don’t know if Samjae got tangled up with me this year, but every time I go out, I run into incidents big and small.”
As he spoke, he showed the wound—his abdomen was wrapped in bandages.
He said he’d been cut by a blade.
The wagons had been loaded full of dried bracken.
But the bracken was only camouflage; underneath lay a hundred pounds of Heuk Jin Ju. Somehow word got out, and he was ambushed in Ha Nam Seong.
It was an attack by the Gwi Mang Dan, a notorious bandit gang that operated throughout the Buk Mang San region.
Fortunately, the hundred pounds of Heuk Jin Ju were preserved.
But thirty or so Pyo Sa perished in yet another devastating bloodbath.
As the Jeok San Pyo Guk’s wagons increasingly became targets for both Murim masters and bandit gangs, Guk Ju Dan Hou-jam took action to reinforce the Pyo Sa ranks.
With bold investment, he brought in renowned masters from across the Ganghoh.
In any case, Wi Cheong-cheon, who had cheated death once again, grasped Yi Muo-baek’s hand.
“I’m stubborn, but you’re stubborn too.”
He grinned widely as he said it.
Yi Muo-baek exchanged a few more words with him, then returned to Suk Ji-un’s bedside.

He had returned.
Though they were not blood brothers, he had lost subordinates who had been just as close, yet he had come back to his post.
Memories of them surfaced.
He had encountered them under the harshest circumstances, and after enduring that tense standoff transporting goods, their faces came to mind first.
They were all skilled martial artists.
Hyeong Do-chan had died by his hand, and afterward the man had served him like a loyal retainer.
Thump-thump.
Sleep would not come, and as he lay there lost in thought, he heard footsteps approaching.
Yi Muo-baek turned his gaze toward the entrance, wondering who could be visiting at this hour.
“Are you awake?”
A deep voice.
Creak.
The door opened, and a middle-aged man in black entered.
“Guk Ju!”
It was Dan Hou-jam, the Guk Ju who ruled the Jeok San Pyo Guk.
“I see you’re not sleeping, as I suspected. Though it’s not that you’re not sleeping—it’s that sleep won’t come to you. Am I right?”
“Yes, sir.”
Scrape.
Dan Hou-jam dragged a chair over and settled into it at the table.
“Is it murderous intent in your eyes, or is it rage radiating from your scars?”
He meant that he could sense Sal Gi emanating from Yi Muo-baek’s body.
Yi Muo-baek smiled faintly and regarded Dan Hou-jam.
“You must be wondering why I’ve come.”
How could he not be curious about the owner of Jeok San Pyo Guk appearing without notice in the middle of the night?
“I’m very curious indeed.”
Yi Muo-baek gave a slight smile.
It was to ease the tension.
It seemed to hint that he already glimpsed something of Dan Hou-jam’s purpose.
“You, this Pyo Du.”
Dan Hou-jam stared intently at Yi Muo-baek.
“People say that while the Pyo Guk engages in Ganghoh affairs, it maintains a certain distance from Ganghoh itself. I agree with that assessment. In other words, we have one foot dipped into Ganghoh.”
It was natural that the Pyo Guk frequently clashed with Murim sects.
Since they transported cargo for both allies and enemies, the Pyo Guk took hits from all sides.
Naturally, they were struck from every direction.
“Look at the history of the Pyo Guk—it mirrors the history of Murim itself. We don’t need to look far; just examine the last three hundred years. There have been Pyo Guk that flourished greatly, but not a single one that accumulated lasting wealth. And there’s no Pyo Guk with a hundred years of history. Their lifespans are short. What does this mean?”
Dan Hou-jam’s voice grew louder.
“Ganghoh is different. Any sect with a name has at least several centuries of history as a foundation. They only need to guard against one threat, but we—we deal with both enemies and friends—so we’re often enemies to one side and enemies to the other. There’s no peace in it.”
A named Pyo Guk earns money that makes ordinary merchant houses look trivial.
But unlike merchant houses, the expenses are enormous.
Those expenses are compensation for goods and damages for lost lives.
“If you hadn’t come back alive, I wouldn’t have come to see you tonight.”
“Indeed, it would seem so.”
“To put it plainly, I too wish to become the Maeng Ju of Mo Yong-cheon.”
If one misinterpreted it, one might think he meant he wanted to become the Maeng Ju of the entire Murim.
What he meant by becoming the Maeng Ju of Mo Yong-cheon was that he would make one proposition to himself.
He had become the successor to the Mo Yong Family, following in Mo Yong-cheon’s footsteps.
“What manner of proposition would you make to a mere Pyo Du like myself?”
“Life is an investment.”
Yi Muo-baek’s breath caught.
Yi Muo-baek’s eyes narrowed.
He drew out the essence of life itself with blunt directness.
“I intend to invest in you. In return, when you become Maeng Ju later, you will render considerable aid to our Jeok San Pyo Guk.”
Yi Muo-baek, who had tensed for a moment, relaxed his expression.
It was a most intriguing proposition.
The man seemed confident that he would become the future Maeng Ju of the Murim.
There was nothing disagreeable about it.
Even as mere flattery, it was pleasant to hear.
“You believe I shall become Maeng Ju?”
“Why do you question it?”
Dan Hou-jam smiled.
I know your ambition.
Moreover, it is already common knowledge that some manner of bargain was struck with Mo Yong-cheon and that you receive his full support.
“Was not this very incident caused by those who dislike your ascension to the head of the Mo Yong Family?”

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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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