Murim School Record - Chapter 57

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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 57: One Cannot Linger Long in Enemy Territory (2)

Charisma was the supreme weapon—it justified one’s actions and drew the wavering hearts of the masses. In this regard, Tan Hwang was a pillar of strength upon which he could rely.
In the Jianghu, when power was strong, enemies grew few.
Tan Hwang, once a hero of the Murim Alliance, carried enough weight to thaw the cold stares of his opponents into warmth.
Yet Tan Hwang’s effort to distance himself was clearly both an inconvenience and an urgency for Wi Ji Gwang.

Yi Mo Baek’s eyes grew quiet and settled as he sent away the errand man with a word of acknowledgment.
Wi Ji Gwang was urgent, perhaps, but the truly urgent one was himself.
The Double Ninth Festival would arrive soon.
Of course, at worst, he could participate in the Alliance Leader Selection Martial Competition as a masterless wanderer, bearing no clan affiliation.
But that was the worst case.
The ideal scenario was to appear as the new patriarch of the Mo Yong Clan.
To achieve that, he would have to either kill Wi Ji Gwang or expel him.
Once Wi Ji Gwang was eliminated and the wavering Mo Yong Clan swept clean, only then would the gaze of the realm focus upon him.
In the Jianghu, allies and enemies sprung from the wellspring of power.
If he killed Wi Ji Gwang and emerged as the new master of the Mo Yong Clan, the world’s eyes and its regard would change utterly.
Whoosh!
A dark cloud drifted suddenly into the chamber, then transformed into human shape.
A figure wrapped from heel to crown in garments black as ink.
It was Sa Yul, the shadow warrior of Dan Hu Jam.
“What brings you?”
Sa Yul was now assisting Yi Mo Baek with Dan Hu Jam’s blessing.
“I have located Gam Mu.”
Gam Mu was the chieftain of the Black Commerce and Wi Ji Gwang’s right hand.
He was one of the few men Yi Mo Baek watched most closely.
“Where is he?”
“True to his station as Black Commerce’s chief, he sensed something amiss with Tan Hwang. At this moment, he and his subordinates are conducting intensive investigations and inquiries throughout the Du Ong region of Gansu Province.”
No matter how carefully one masqueraded, flaws would inevitably surface.
Of course, if they failed to find those flaws, there was nothing to be done—but he had calculated that haste would prevent any deception from lasting long.
“How many days would it take, at fastest, to reach Du Ong?”
“No matter how swift the Divine Movement Technique, long distances cannot be outpaced by foot alone. If one disperses substantial sums at each relay station, the Five Autumn Horse can be procured. With those, four days should suffice.”
“Four days!”
Yi Mo Baek murmured to himself.
“For what purpose?”
“This matter seems strangely urgent. Tan Hwang was rushed, and Wi Ji Gwang… it seems he must be dealt with tonight.”
“Tonight?”
Sa Yul’s eyes widened in surprise.
“He has apparently brought the finest courtesans from Jinling. It appears he intends to win my favor completely, and there may never be a better opportunity than this.”
Gulp.
Sa Yul swallowed hard.
Opportunities did not come often.
The problem arose when they came either too early or too late.
Too early was manageable; too late was dangerous.
Tan Hwang had seized an unexpected opportunity and succeeded with a sudden strike.
“If something changes here, a courier pigeon could fly to Gam Mu—that’s what you mean, isn’t it?”
His words cut to the heart of the question about travel time to Du Ong.
He himself, no matter how swift, would need four days; but if Yi Mo Baek settled Wi Ji Gwang tonight, a messenger would depart at once.
A courier pigeon could never be slower than he was.
“Even so, if I depart now and the Mo Yong Clan is overturned tonight, there should be roughly half a day’s difference in timing.”
He spoke carefully, trying to minimize the pigeon’s speed advantage.
A well-trained courier pigeon could fly at night, but ordinarily, one would not send it then.
If released around the hour of twilight when the nocturnal raptors retreat into the forest, the time difference would be roughly one day, give or take.

Even riding the fastest Five Autumn Horse, one could only keep pace with a courier pigeon for half a day at best—certainly not overtake it.
Yi Mo Baek’s calculation was simple: he wanted Sa Yul to eliminate Gam Mu before the courier pigeon reached his hands.
“I’ll do my utmost,” Sa Yul said.
“Well, as they say—Man Proposes, Heaven Disposes.”
Pop!
Sa Yul vanished in an instant.
It was magnificent.
A vast table groaned under the weight of wine and food, while courtesans—the most beautiful maidens of Jinling—danced and sang.
Yi Mo Baek watched the soft swell of their breasts, glimpsed with each movement, with a gaze heavy with desire.
Wi Ji Gwang, observing him closely, laughed even louder, stoking the revelry higher.
“Master, it’s terribly hot,” one of the courtesans said, twisting her body.
A courtesan among them spoke as she writhed.
“I wonder if it might be alright to remove one more layer of clothing.”
The courtesans were glistening with sweat.
“If you’re warm, there’s no harm in removing a layer. Do so,” Yi Mo Baek said.
As if they’d been waiting for permission, the women shed the upper garment they wore.
Only a single gossamer-thin silk veil remained.
Their skin showed through brazenly; their breasts seemed ready at any moment to pierce through the fragile fabric.

Purple Sweat Secret Pill.

Yi Mo Baek realized the courtesans had been given the Purple Sweat Secret Pill.
Even the slightest movement caused them to perspire far more heavily than usual, their bodies flushed with heat.
When a woman’s body grows warm, a particular scent rises from her skin.
The Carnal Fragrance.
That heady aroma, emanating from a sultry woman, stimulated men.
It possessed far greater drawing power than any common Aphrodisiac Drug.
An Aphrodisiac Drug robbed a man of reason entirely, but the Purple Sweat Secret Pill merely inflamed desire.
“Come now, let us drink,” Yi Mo Baek said, offering his cup with evident pleasure.
Wi Ji Gwang drank deeply.
He refused nothing, accommodating Yi Mo Baek’s wishes, stoking the mood without hesitation.
He offered no resistance, keeping the gathering alive and drawing it forward.
Gulp!
Wi Ji Gwang drained his cup.

Hundred Day Intoxication.

The wine he drank was Hundred Day Intoxication.
It was said that one drink would leave a man drunk for a hundred days.
Of course, no one remained intoxicated for a full hundred days.
Rather, unlike other wines, it drove the drinker to an extreme state of inebriation.
But its potency came with advantages.
When drunk on it, a man experienced pleasure beyond ordinary imagination—unlike common wine.
Someone once described the intoxication of Hundred Day Intoxication as “treading upon clouds while drifting through the world.”
It was an expensive wine, beyond the reach of the poor.
A laborer who earned barely enough to eat could hardly afford to drink it and idle for a hundred days.
The price was staggering.
Wi Ji Gwang, having discovered that Tan Hwang favored Hundred Day Intoxication, had prepared an entire vessel of it.

It had ripened to its fullest.
The attendants were nearly naked, and two women clung to Yi Mo Baek’s sides like ticks, pouring wine while pressing their breasts against him.
It was brazen seduction.
Across from him, Wi Ji Gwang held two courtesans in his embrace, drinking with them.
There was no longer any conversation between the two men.
Only the lewd banter flowing between each man and the courtesans clinging to his sides filled the air.
“I fear I may have made an error, Master,” Wi Ji Gwang said, his eyes glazed with drink.
He looked toward Yi Mo Baek with intoxicated eyes.
“I had no ill intention, but I worried you might misunderstand—I mean regarding how our Poison Bullet Manufacturing warehouse is situated so far from the residence. I was thinking, starting tomorrow, to have the Mo Yong Clan send people to participate as well.”
Crash!
Wi Ji Gwang’s eyes widened.
This was the answer he’d been waiting for.
There was the matter of stealing and learning the technique of poison bullet manufacturing.
But the priority above all else was communication with Tan Hwang.
Distance closes the heart.
Even if they weren’t sworn siblings, they moved as one complete body—and working together on a shared task meant his own thoughts and desires were being realized.
“Hahahaha! Come now, Tan Hwang! Let us toast grandly to our friendship.”
He drew the Hundred Day Intoxication from the earthen jug with a wooden ladle, filling the cup to the brim.
Splash!
Slosh!
The wine sloshed over the rim.
Both men raised their overflowing cups.
“Though this is merely a cup, our friendship is stronger than even the White Horse Covenant.”
The White Horse Covenant dated to ancient times, when Maek A and Jeol Tan, supreme masters of their era, met in enemy territory and pooled their strength.
As proof, they severed the neck of the white horse they rode, and by drinking its blood together, they brought an end to a hundred years of war.
He invoked that very White Horse Covenant.
Wi Ji Gwang seemed eager to show him everything.
Clink!
The two cups struck together.
Both men brought the cups to their lips.
Yet Yi Mo Baek grasped his cup with his left hand.
Since the evening banquet began, he had been accepting cups with his left hand, so there was nothing unusual about it.
Right hand and left hand.
Depending on which was the dominant hand, the same martial technique could yield different power.
So he had been using his left hand to hold the cup from the start.
Whoosh!
A small flash of light streaked beneath the wine cup.
The distance between him and Wi Ji Gwang was less than arm’s reach—a mere few feet if one stretched out an arm.
And Wi Ji Gwang was drinking at that very moment.
His hand was obscured by the cup itself.
Crack!
Yi Mo Baek’s fist, passing beneath the cup, drove straight into Wi Ji Gwang’s chest.
Hack!
Wi Ji Gwang flew backward from his seated position, slamming into the wall behind him.
Whoosh!
Yi Mo Baek gave him no reprieve.
He threw another punch and rushed after Wi Ji Gwang, who was flying toward the rear wall, extending his right fist once more.
Boom!
But Yi Mo Baek’s eyes went wide.
Wi Ji Gwang had raised his right hand in defense.
Watching Wi Ji Gwang defend himself even as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth from the surprise attack, Yi Mo Baek was stunned.

‘Blood—Golden Seal.’

A crimson hand.
If it were the Blood Golden Seal at full strength, it should be as red as a blood clot.
But it was only bright scarlet.
That meant the sudden attack had inflicted deep wounds inside his body.
Crack!
Hand and fist collided.
Ugh!
Wi Ji Gwang let out a cry and bounced back again, crashing into the wall.
Boom!
Whoosh!
Yi Mo Baek did not let up.
He was shaken by Wi Ji Gwang’s martial prowess, which was far more formidable than he’d anticipated.
Now or never—there would be no other opportunity.
Thud!
Boom!
His right fist followed his left, both driving relentlessly into Wi Ji Gwang’s body.
“What… what are you doing?”
Yi Mo Baek spits blood as he asks.
He hadn’t foreseen even the slightest hint of such a catastrophe.
Thud!
Crack-crack!
Whoosh—smack!
The sixth punch connects with Wi Ji Gwang’s face.
The sound is dull, and on the surface it appears the fist has struck true.
But it has not.
Yi Mo Baek’s advancing fist slows as it draws nearer to Wi Ji Gwang’s face.
It extends fearlessly, yet decelerates.
Except for the first blow, all five remaining strikes encounter Wi Ji Gwang’s resistance—the interference of his Protective Body Qi.
The first punch lands squarely, inflicting a mortal wound.
Any ordinary master would never survive a barrage of strikes falling like this.
The Blood Golden Seal shattered against the Baek Bo Sin Gwon, but his Protective Body Qi shields Wi Ji Gwang’s life in the end.

‘So this is how strong he truly is?’

Seventy percent revealed, thirty percent concealed—so the saying goes.
Deploy seventy percent and hide thirty for the worst contingency.
Yet Wi Ji Gwang appeared to be the opposite.
He had revealed thirty and hidden seventy—a mastery so chilling it defied belief.
That Mo Yong Cheon had no successor was an opportunity Wi Ji Gwang would never have twice.
To deceive the eyes of Mo Yong Cheon, the foremost master of the Orthodox Faction, Wi Ji Gwang likely lived by a ratio of three to seven, not seven to three.
Looking at the current situation, that was undoubtedly the case.
Cough-cough-cough!
Wi Ji Gwang’s face flushes crimson with blood and the scent of wine.
He crouches against the wall, blinking slowly—his eyes betray a mind still unable to accept what has happened.
Retch!
He vomits blood.
“Why me?”
Twitch!
Yi Mo Baek’s expression begins to change.

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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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