My Father Is the Number One Under Heaven - Chapter 66

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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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Episode 66. The Investigation Continues
Jegal Gil and the Murim Alliance investigators he’d brought with him were soon led by Peng Sejin to where the Baekrang Corps conducted their training.
And when they arrived,
“Haaaagh!”
“Hyah! Hyah! Hyah!”
“Aaaagh! Aaaagh!”
A training regimen that might have been plucked from hell itself was underway.
More than twenty warriors were running, leaping, swinging their blades a hundred times over, then running and leaping again…….
Every last one of them wore faces that looked ready to collapse at any moment, gasping for breath.
Yet not a single person gave up or crumpled to the ground.
As though falling behind meant the end of their entire existence.
“Good heavens. What in the world are they doing?”
The Murim Alliance warriors’ eyes went wide.
Even Jegal Gil, who rarely seemed surprised by anything, wore the same expression.
At that, Peng Sejin laughed awkwardly.
He understood well enough how the Baekrang Corps’ current training would appear to outsiders’ eyes.
“That’s just their regular training.”
“That’s their regular training? Truly?”
One of the Murim Alliance warriors stammered out the question, and Peng Sejin nodded once more.
“Yes.”
“Surely you don’t mean all the Peng Family warriors train like that?”
“No, not at all. Only the Baekrang Corps practices this particular method. It’s a special training regimen devised by the Baekrang Corps commander, you might say. Ha-ha…….”
Whether he’d devised it or not, it was clear the warriors were doing it because he’d ordered them to.
Jegal Gil’s eyes brightened at Peng Sejin’s words.
The Baekrang Corps commander, then.
“What sort of person is he?”
Jegal Gil asked quietly as they waited for the training to end. At that, Peng Sejin smiled faintly.
“Until recently, he was a scholar. And he’s also my sister’s husband, which makes him my brother-in-law.”
“Ah? A scholar? Wait—surely not?”
He’d heard the story of Peng Seoyeon before.
She was one of the Six Dragons of Yongryongsa, a name that had once shone brightly among the Later Generation Experts of the martial world.
The day she vanished and disappeared was quite a shocking event throughout the martial world at the time.
Moreover, when rumors spread that the reason was a love affair with some scholar—that she’d fled the family under cover of night to escape their opposition—the Peng Family became the subject of considerable ridicule.
But then,
“It seems she’s returned.”
“Yes. It hasn’t been long, but that’s what’s happened.”
Peng Sejin spoke of it with a remarkably bright expression.
It was unexpected.
As the Crown Prince destined to inherit the family line, Peng Sejin would not have been wrong to harbor hatred for a sister who’d done such a thing.

Especially one who’d brought shame upon the family name and made them a laughingstock.
And yet Peng Sejin seemed to welcome both his sister and the man who’d become his brother-in-law quite gladly.
How could that possibly be?
By ordinary standards, the affection Peng Sejin displayed now was difficult to comprehend.
Perhaps he was simply the type to be good to people without good reason.
Perhaps that was why he never expressed dislike, even when he felt it.
Yet Jegal Gil had never particularly cared for that type of person.
In any case.
So this man who’d married Peng Seoyeon was the Baekrang Corps commander.
But hadn’t they just said he’d been a scholar? Had he separately learned martial arts since then?
Even if he had, there would be limits to what he could achieve—and yet the Baekrang Corps, renowned for their savage temperament, had apparently accepted such a person as their commander without question?
Several questions crowded his mind.
“You’ve worked hard!”
The Baekrang Corps training had ended in the meantime. Shortly after, Yeo Unhui, the Baekrang Corps commander, approached them.
He was tall and strikingly handsome.
“Brother. These are the investigators from the Murim Alliance.”
Peng Sejin spoke to Yeo Unhui in a gentle tone.
“They wanted to meet with the Baekrang Corps regarding the recent matter involving the Sarim Corps.”
“Ah. I see.”
Yeo Unhui nodded in acknowledgment.
Then he turned his head to look at Jegal Gil and the Murim Alliance warriors, offering a greeting.
“I am Yeo Unhui.”
“I am Jegal Gil, an investigator of the Murim Alliance.”
After the brief introductions, Yeo Unhui regarded Jegal Gil with an odd intensity in his gaze.
……?
Noticing that stare, Jegal Gil’s expression grew uncertain, and Yeo Unhui smiled faintly before asking.
“What business did you wish to discuss with us?”
“I had a few questions about this matter I’d hoped to ask you directly.”
Soon enough, Jegal Gil began posing questions one by one to verify the story he had heard from Peng Sejin.
Behind Yeo Unhui, members of the Baekrang Corps stood in formation.
Jegal Gil’s eyes flicked toward them briefly.
They resembled nothing so much as finely honed blades.
Moreover, the presence emanating from each and every one of them was far from ordinary.
Despite the grueling, seemingly impossible training they’d endured only moments before, not a single one of them showed fatigue.
It was like watching an army preparing for war.
Yet from Yeo Unhui himself, remarkably, Jegal Gil sensed absolutely nothing.
What could this man possibly be?
As they spoke, Jegal Gil continuously probed Yeo Unhui’s aura through Qi Sensing.
Yet still, he perceived nothing whatsoever.
Even during the training, Yeo Unhui had done nothing but observe from the sidelines.
There was something else strange about it all.
It was the look in the eyes of the Baekrang Corps members as they regarded this man, who seemed to know nothing of martial arts.
To Jegal Gil’s perception, such a look could only arise from perfect trust in a superior—absolute and unwavering.
The atmosphere made little sense to him.
How could such a thing even be possible?
The Murim Alliance too maintained a clear hierarchy.
Indeed, it was perhaps more rigidly structured than anywhere else.
That was the nature of the martial world: every practitioner judged others by a single measure—whether they were stronger or weaker than oneself.
By that standard, a superior whose martial power fell short of one’s own was inevitably dismissed, if only subtly.
It was perhaps inevitable.
The Murim Alliance was no different in this regard.
Indeed, the clarity of its hierarchy might well stem from the fact that those in higher positions typically possessed greater martial skill than their subordinates.
But what of these men?
From all he had observed, Yeo Unhui was remarkably unremarkable—his martial prowess showed no signs of any particular depth or refinement.
That the Baekrang Corps followed such a man was not merely strange; it was profoundly strange.
There had to be something more.
But what that something was, he could not yet discern.
And besides, that question was not the most pressing concern at present.
Setting aside his newfound curiosity, he began speaking with the Baekrang Corps members as well, following Yeo Unhui’s lead.
After a series of questions, the final person he spoke with was Peng Dohwan.
The man who had reportedly been severely wounded during the sparring match with the Sarim Corps.
As expected, bandages were still wrapped around his injuries.
‘Good heavens. This is infuriating.’
Those who had pressured him into the sparring match had lost their footing and, unable to control their rage, had resorted to a Lethal Technique.
He had heard this before, but it remained utterly inexcusable.
The more he investigated, the more grievances the Sarim Corps seemed to accumulate for the Peng Family.
Worthless wretches.
Though they were already dead and beyond any reckoning now, the very thought of them filled him with revulsion.
How had fate conspired to gather such despicable creatures into a single organization?
Their arrogance, their reckless pride—much of that surely lay at the feet of the Murim Alliance elders, their masters.
Cultivating a disciple was not merely a matter of teaching martial arts.
A mentor’s duty also included guiding them toward sound principles and proper values.
Without that, what separated such teaching from merely forging human weapons?
Yet the previous generations, trained under those same elders, had proven entirely different.
They continued to fulfill their roles admirably, even now.
Perhaps, then, the true fault lay with the Sarim Corps itself.
Of course, that did not absolve the elders who had shaped them of their responsibility.
But who in the Murim Alliance, save the Alliance Lord himself, possessed the authority to hold them accountable?
It was a difficult matter—made all the more so by the fact that even the Alliance Lord had failed to discharge his duties properly.
Crack.
‘So the conversation always circles back to the same place.’
Jegal Gil sank into thought, and without realizing it, his teeth ground together.
He had long believed that the greatest problem rotting the Murim Alliance from within stemmed from the elders.
Yet even his older brother, the Alliance’s Chief Military Commander and a man who shared much of his thinking, could do nothing about that particular issue.
Song Ildo, the Alliance Lord himself, bore considerable responsibility.
His habitual indecision and willingness to excuse the vilest deeds if they came from his favored people had become an anchor, dragging the Alliance back whenever it tried to move forward.
These problems, layered upon one another over countless years, had taken deep root.
It was already far too late to tear them out in one go.
And so the Murim Alliance continued to decay, unnoticed by anyone.
Yet despite it all, Jegal Gil believed that if he methodically excised each poisoned root, the problems would inevitably be solved.
So he refused to surrender, doing his utmost in the position he held.
And in the matter he had been secretly investigating of late, Jegal Gil was certain that one of the elders stood behind it as well.
But he needed to dig deeper.
Act prematurely before securing solid evidence, and nothing would come of it—neither success nor failure, just ruin.
At any rate, that was one concern among many.
First, he had to see this matter through to its end, then return and settle the other loose threads waiting for him.
For a moment, Jegal Gil stood fuming at the thought of the Sarim Corps and their masters, the Murim Alliance elders—but he quickly gathered himself.
Now was the time to focus on the investigation before him.
With that characteristic expressionless face of his, Jegal Gil posed his next question to Peng Dohwan.
“Then the Baekrang Corps must have harbored rather unfavorable feelings toward the Sarim Corps.”
At Jegal Gil’s question, every member of the Baekrang Corps went rigid, their faces turning cold.
“What do you mean to imply with such a statement?”
“Ah, ah. Please, there’s no need to take offense.”
When Peng Dohwan pressed him, Jegal Gil elaborated as if the matter were trivial.
“I’m not looking for fault—I simply wish to understand the sequence of events, the details of what transpired, and the emotions all parties felt in between.”
…….
Yet even if what he said was true, the Baekrang Corps members were already thoroughly displeased by his questions.
There were things to say and things best left unsaid.
His phrasing seemed to suggest that the Baekrang Corps itself might be connected to this incident—and that stung.
But among them all, only Yeo Unhui seemed unmoved by Jegal Gil’s tone.
Indeed, he found something oddly fascinating about the way Jegal Gil carried himself.
Whether lacking in perception or simply indifferent, Jegal Gil appeared wholly absorbed in his investigation, oblivious to how others reacted.
He had been scribbling notes on paper the whole time, and now he nodded to himself.
“In any case, thank you. I appreciate your cooperation. This has been most helpful.”
He offered the Baekrang Corps a perfunctory expression of gratitude, then turned his gaze to Peng Sejin.
“Now, would you please guide us to the location where the incident occurred?”
“Yes? Ah, yes. Ahem. Understood. Let us proceed.”
Peng Sejin rose and moved with them.
Peng Sejin glanced back over his shoulder.
Yeo Unhui smiled faintly and nodded in response.
“An irritating fellow, truly.”
As Jegal Gil’s retreating figure grew distant, every member of the Baekrang Corps began muttering their displeasure.
“Indeed. What kind of questions were those? He seems like the type to make enemies wherever he goes.”
“That’s right.”
“Pardon? Commander. Do you know that investigator from before?”
“Not at all.”
At Peng Dohwan’s question, Yeo Unhui shook his head with a smile.
But in truth, he did have an acquaintance with him.
Before his regression, when Yeo Unhui was the Blood Demon.
So it was correct to say they were strangers now.
‘Never thought I’d run into him here. Ha.’
For some reason, reality seemed to be unfolding quite differently from the history he remembered.

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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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