Murim School Record - Chapter 56

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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 56: You Cannot Linger Long in Enemy Territory (1)

What struck him more was that despite yesterday’s lavish welcome—bustling with such fanfare—this man pretended not to know him.
Yet he clearly wasn’t asking “who are you?” because he genuinely didn’t recognize him.
Given the nature of his work, it was plain he wouldn’t speak first until I laid my cards on the table.
“I am called Tan Hwang. I’ve accepted an invitation from the head of the Wi clan and will be staying here for some time. I’m making the rounds to see the sights of the Mo Yong Sega.”
“Ah, Tan Hwang, is it.”
The man feigned surprise.
“While the Mo Yong Sega is hardly a historic landmark, it’s certainly not so shabby as to have nothing worth seeing.”
It wasn’t a historic landmark.
Taken up to that point, his words diminished the Mo Yong Sega as an unremarkable place.
But by saying it was hardly shabby at all, he was speaking to the clan’s magnificence—a response caught between two impossible positions.
To say that only the most honored guests of the Mo Yong Sega could enter here without permission would risk sudden discomfort.
Yet he couldn’t exactly invite Yi Mo Baek to look around freely either.
“Allow me to show you around.”
The man’s mind worked quickly.
His kindness in offering to follow along as a guide was genuine, but its true purpose was surveillance.
It couldn’t be stopped, and leaving him to wander alone bred unease.
“I’d be grateful for the guidance.”
Yi Mo Baek smiled broadly.
“This is the headquarters of the Huk Sang Dae.”

A plaque reading “Huk Sang Dae” came into view.

“This is the space where the Chief conducts his affairs and resides.”
“Then the Chief is here at present?”
“No. He had business to attend to and has stepped out. Come, let us enter.”
They ascended the steps and entered the great hall.
Walking down the corridor, a vast chamber opened before them, with an enormous wall standing squarely in the middle like a barrier.
“What is this?”
Yi Mo Baek asked, his gaze fixed on the wall blocking their path.
The wall was a massive granite stone.
But carved into the rock to a depth of roughly half a foot were the names of people.
Yi Mo Baek scanned them quickly; there appeared to be around two hundred names.
He stopped short.
One inscription at the base of the stone caught his eye.

The Nameless Star Monument.

Taken literally, it was a stele inscribed with the names of the nameless stars.
It was a record of those who had died fighting for the Mo Yong Sega.
Yi Mo Baek’s eyes narrowed.
One might dismiss it as nothing remarkable, but Yi Mo Baek thought otherwise.
To honor someone, to preserve their memory—
particularly from Mo Yong Cheon’s perspective, these were subordinates who had fallen in his service.
There was nothing more stirring than to carve their fierce loyalty into stone like this, to record their names for eternity.
For those subordinates, it was reason enough to offer their loyalty without reservation.
The Mo Yong Sega had not simply ascended to become one of the Five Great Clans, nor had the seat of Murim Alliance leader simply fallen into their lap.
“How do the families of the fallen manage to survive?” Yi Mo Baek asked quietly.
He posed the question almost casually.
Sacrifice must always be rewarded.
Without compensation for such precious sacrifice, devoted servants would cease to appear.
“I cannot say for certain, but they live at ease for three generations.”
It was compensation that far exceeded expectation.
Here was the burning reason why the Mo Yong Sega, possessing the shortest history among the great clans, could nevertheless produce a leader of the Murim Alliance.

‘He resembles Cao Cao quite a bit.’

It was what Cheong Mong Seonsa had spat at Mo Yong Cheon.
A supreme warrior of the realm—how could he be ordinary?
Whoever he resembled, his nature could never be commonplace.
Creak!
Walking down the corridor, he opened a door to one side.
A vast hall stretched before him, its space dominated by an enormous rectangular table and chairs.
“Twice a year, the sixty-four branch headquarters scattered across the realm gather here to hold council.”
He found himself imagining the scene of such a conference unfolding.
It seemed genuinely remarkable.
The man had shown him everything except the private quarters of the Grand Master himself.
The second-floor pavilion served as the residence of the Huk Sang Dae agents, and entry was difficult for reasons of privacy.
“Hah! No matter. I’m already quite satisfied and pleased. Though there is one thing I haven’t discovered.”
“What might that be?”
“For nearly an hour, you’ve been guiding me, yet I still don’t know your name.”
“I am Vice Master Un Hak San.”
Yi Mo Baek was startled.
Of course, he showed no sign of it outwardly, but he had never dreamed the Vice Master himself would be the one guiding him.
“I’ve received such generous treatment from Vice Master Un.”
Yi Mo Baek took Un Hak San’s hand.
A slight flinch.
There was no way to escape it.
No—even if he could have, to evade the hand of someone extending it in goodwill would have been a grave rudeness given his station as Tan Hwang.
Having his hand held made things dangerous.
If Tan Hwang chose, he could destroy him right then.
Though Un Hak San knew that Tan Hwang was supreme with Poison Pills but his martial prowess fell short of the rumors, the unease was undeniable.
“You’re a splendid man.”
Yi Mo Baek released his hand with a gentle smile.
“It would be presumptuous to receive hospitality without returning it in kind. At your convenience, I would like to invite our Vice Master to visit. If you’ve no objection, I do hope you’ll accept.”
“Should you call, I must go. I wouldn’t dare refuse.”
He was Wi Ji-gwang’s guest.
The title “Master of the House” still didn’t come naturally to his lips, but there was no doubt that Wi Ji-gwang would be the lord steering the future Mo Yong Sega.
Un Hak San watched Yi Mo Baek receding into the distance.
“Why are you staring so intently?”
A man appeared.
“Did you come?”
“Who?”
He asked while watching Yi Mo Baek disappear in the distance.
“Tan Hwang.”
At the name Tan Hwang, the man’s eyes widened in shock.
He was astonished because Tan Hwang was Master Wi Ji-gwang’s guest, and his appearance at Huk Sang Dae was unexpected.
People naturally gravitate toward those of the same standing.
In Kangho, this tendency runs even stronger.
Had Wi Ji-gwang extended an invitation, anyone would naturally have sought to distance themselves from the lower ranks.
Yet Tan Hwang had come directly, and to have received personal guidance from Un Hak San himself—the man stood speechless, his mouth agape.
This was far from an ordinary occurrence.
“There’s a discrepancy.”
“What sort of discrepancy?”
“The Tan Hwang we’ve investigated seems somewhat different.”
According to the intelligence Huk Sang Dae had gathered, Tan Hwang had a cantankerous temperament and spoke roughly to subordinates.
Headstrong and unreasonable.
A man who recognized no superiors, only inferiors.
It would have been unremarkable for such a Tan Hwang to speak and conduct himself carelessly toward him.
Yet no matter how carefully he observed, there had been no trace of insult or contempt in his manner.
“Come inside.”
Un Hak San walked toward the pavilion with the man at his side.

The serious business of Poison Pill manufacturing had begun.
Tan Hwang arrived with the advance party, and two weeks later his disciples came flooding in with the main force.
In the space prepared beforehand, they began earnest Poison Pill Manufacturing.
Fearing explosions, they erected temporary structures far from the halls where people lived and worked.
Yet Wi Ji-gwang saw things differently.
He interpreted the distance kept between the residence and the manufacturing site as a precaution against leaking techniques.
Wi Ji-gwang believed that once two hands clasped and became one, there should be nothing hidden between them.
Tan Hwang was a crucial asset to him.
There must be no awkwardness between them, and the distance must close even further.
“Hmm…”
Wi Ji-gwang let out a heavy sigh.
His heart was not at ease.
He would have preferred Tan Hwang to come under his command, but given Tan Hwang’s standing in the martial world, it was impossible.
So they had become collaborators, helping and being helped in turn.
But as time passed, even collaboration seemed to widen the gulf between them.
One Heart and One Body—
Two must become one.
“It will not be easy,” said Jong Ri Gyun, the elder seated across from him.
Jong Ri Gyun spoke from his place opposite.
“It will require considerable time. For now, it would be best to set aside all worries and simply wait. As the saying goes, gulping down your meal too quickly will give you indigestion, will it not?”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“At least be satisfied that he has entered our nest.”
“You’re right.”
Wi Ji-gwang nodded and sipped his tea.

Yi Mo Baek was in his quarters.
Twice a day, morning and afternoon, he would leave the Workshop to encourage the men at their labor and bolster their spirits.
“There’s no need to rush. The most important thing is ensuring no defective batches.”
He spoke thus to the men making Poison Pills, hands clasped behind his back.
“Gal Mu Young!”
Gal Mu Young, the foreman overseeing all the Workshop’s men, lifted his head.
“How are things? After work today, we’re slaughtering a pig.”
At the mention of a pig, all the men in the Workshop turned to look.
“Truly, sir?”
“Why else would we labor if not to eat and live? I’ll mention it to the household master, so you can count on it.”
“We are grateful, sir.”
“Long live Tan Hwang!”
Men called out loudly from here and there.

The candle flame burned brightly.
Yi Mo Baek sat gazing at the flickering flame.
Jungyangjeol was drawing near.
One of the qualifications for the Martial Tournament to select the Alliance Master was that only one person from any single organization could compete.
Of course, even if someone had a connection to a famous sect in the past, that mattered nothing now.
For example, if someone entered under the name of a Shaolin disciple, that was the end of it.
One could not compete further under the Shaolin name.
But someone of Shaolin origin could still compete.
Yi Mo Baek would compete under the name of the Mo Yong Sega.
And it was clear that Wi Ji-gwang too would take the field under the title of Mo Yong Sega household master.
“Are you there?”
“Come in.”
The door opened and San Sang Sul stepped inside.
But his face was flushed.
“Seems you’ve had a drink or two somewhere.”
San Sang Sul had been focused lately on sharing wine with the Mo Yong Sega’s officers as a strategy to warm relations and grow closer.
“You are remarkable, sir. It appears the Great Hero’s calculation was precise.”
“What are you talking about?”
“With today, I have now shared wine with Dan Mok Su, the foreman of the Mo Yong Sega, four times. And during our conversation, I heard something that astonished me.”
“Speak.”
“The Great Hero’s Remote Explosion Manufacturing Strategy appears to be working.”
The Remote Explosion Manufacturing Strategy was the practice of constructing temporary buildings far from the main compound, ostensibly to minimize casualties in case of accidents during Poison Pill production.

‘Wouldn’t the distance be too great? If they’re too far removed, they might feel slighted. They could misunderstand it as a lack of trust in their abilities.’
It was what San Sang Sul had said when they first chose the location for the temporary workshop.

‘That’s precisely why I want them to feel slighted.’
‘Pardon? I’m not sure I follow.’
‘I want Wi Ji-gwang to feel wounded, so he clings to me all the more.’

He hadn’t understood it then.
But now he sees it plainly, and Yi Mo Baek’s strategy leaves him speechless with astonishment.
“The Great Hero—or rather, Tan Hwang—when he asked what he loves most, what did you tell him?”
“What did I say?”
“Of course I said women. That he can’t resist them.”
Hiss.
Yi Mo Baek laughs.
What man doesn’t desire women?
In any case, Wi Ji-gwang’s current position is hardly comfortable.
Though he has forcibly seized the seat of family head of Mo Yong Sega, the obstacles he must overcome are countless.
The most critical problem is betrayal.
He cast aside his master Mo Yong Cheon’s wishes and claimed the position of family head through his own authority alone.
Some follow Wi Ji-gwang, but many remain loyal to Mo Yong Cheon.
How will those loyal to Mo Yong Cheon view Wi Ji-gwang’s betrayal?
Wi Ji-gwang is near, but Mo Yong Cheon is distant.
With death hovering close, they bow their heads to Wi Ji-gwang for now, yet at the first opportunity, they will strike back.
Though Mo Yong Cheon’s body grows ever weaker, his connections thread through the Kangho in all directions.
Avoiding their resentful gazes is no simple task.
From such a perspective, Wi Ji-gwang has not one but many urgent matters to attend to.
For those who have risen in betrayal and rebellion and treason, the first priority is drawing the other faction to their side.
Killing has its limits.

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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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