Return of the God of War - Chapter 18

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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 18: Is there anyone who isn’t dissatisfied?
Bu Yeon’s sister, Bu Yeongseol, had not fled in the night because of an affair with a man.
Heo Sangdo’s first wife, Mo Nanyeo, had never approved of her husband taking a concubine from the start.
Moreover, since Bu Yeongseol possessed not only beauty but also a virtuous nature, monopolizing the attention of the entire household, Mo Nanyeo’s petty jealousy and envy had grown so sharp that her mouth felt lined with thorns.
In the end, Mo Nanyeo had hired someone to sell Bu Yeongseol to a human trafficking ring.
This was the truth.
“That old devil Heo Sangdo must have known about it too!”
Bang!!
After hearing the full account, Bu Yeon brought his fist down on the table as if to shatter it.
From his trembling knuckles, one could see that his fury had reached its peak.
Muk Yeojin nodded slowly.
“If he’d made a fuss over how his first wife was treating his concubine, it would only have embarrassed himself. So he turned a blind eye.”
“I… I…”
Thick drops of tears fell from Bu Yeon’s eyes.
“Three years. A full three years. God only knows what torment my sister endured all that time!!”
Muk Yeojin glanced out the window.
He too would have wished to find Bu Yeongseol sooner, but he had been in no position to leave Mangdamjeon.
Above all, even Muk Yeojin had not known Bu Yeongseol’s whereabouts before Chosungru.
‘But this time, I will be able to meet my sister alive.’
Under the original circumstances, he would not have learned the truth for another year from now.
By then, the sister he found would already be a cold corpse, and Bu Yeon would spend his entire life blaming himself for it.
Muk Yeojin watched his close friend, who would spend moonlit nights weeping over thoughts of his sister whenever he drank.
‘In this life, let us raise our cups and toast to laughter instead of tears, Bu Yeon.’
Muk Yeojin swallowed those words silently and rose to his feet.
“I intend to leave now to rescue the sister of our trade company’s director. What will you do, Bu Yeon?”
Bu Yeon, who had quietly wiped away the moisture from his eyes, spoke.
“Of course I’m coming with you.”
“Chosongru is no ordinary establishment—it’s backed by a criminal organization called the Mad River sect. Your life may not be guaranteed.”
Bu Yeon steeled his resolve.
“I’m going.”
Muk Yeojin nodded.
He had anticipated this, of course.
“Very well. We haven’t a moment to lose if we’re to reach Zhejiang. Have the carriage prepared at once. I’ll drive.”
“Wait… I’ll summon all of my guards.”
Muk Yeojin raised his hand to stop Bu Yeon, who had moved to raise the flute hanging from his neck.
“The more people we bring, the more complications we face. Since our aim is rescue, not warfare, it’s best to travel as light as possible. And…”
Muk Yeojin spoke curtly as he stepped over the threshold.
“One person is enough as a guard.”
* * *
Zhejiang Province is a region where Sadocheon’s influence is particularly weak.
First, the distance from Guangxi, Hunan, and Chongqing—where Sadocheon’s forces are concentrated—is considerable.
Managing distant branches requires exponentially more personnel than overseeing adjacent positions.
Since Zhejiang offers no offsetting advantages despite such burden, Sadocheon’s power naturally grew thin there.
Then is the Murim Alliance strong?
That is not the case either.
The Namgung Clan holds the northwest, and Potaam the northeast, but—
In any case, Zhejiang south of the Yangtze River remains Sadocheon’s territory.
From the White Path’s perspective, it’s a land of little profit—why disturb it unnecessarily?
As a result, vagrants and scoundrels with nowhere else to turn gradually began to gather in Zhejiang.
By now, it had become a den of villainy beyond reckoning.
Creak!
A man in fine silk robes with a veil drawn over his face and a martial artist in a bamboo hat entered an inn in Hojum County, Zhejiang Province.
They were Bu Yeon and Muk Yeojin.
The moment the two stepped inside, the loud chatter within froze as if cold water had been poured over it.
The eyes of every patron in the inn converged upon them.
In each gaze—from men who looked like back-alley ruffians—burned a clear, unmistakable hostility.
Bu Yeon whispered discreetly.
“Why are they all staring at us like they want to kill us, Muk?”
Muk Yeojin answered through transmission of sound into secret:
‘There is an Unwritten Rule in Zhejiang: show your face, hide your weapons. We are doing the opposite—hiding our faces and displaying our weapons—so naturally we stand out to them.’
Muk Yeojin gave the Long Sword hanging openly at his waist a deliberate shake.
Bu Yeon flinched.
“You knew about it? Then why—?”
‘This way, it’ll be easier to gain entry to Chosongru. From now on, you’ll pose as an unknown power broker with skilled subordinates.’
Just then, a gang of thugs surrounded them both.
A giant with an unkempt topknot stepped forward among them and spoke.
“Well, well—how long’s it been since we’ve seen spineless bastards like this?”
“About ten months, I’d say. Boss.”
“Right, right. Those punk-ass so-called warriors who gathered under some ‘cooperation’ banner, wasn’t it? What happened to those fools?”
“We played with them for a while, then slaughtered every last one.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Heheheh.”
The conversation was barely worth listening to.
After cackling among themselves for a time, the thugs’ expressions hardened and they radiated an oppressive aura.
“I’m in a good mood today, so if you strip naked and crawl out of here, I’ll let you keep your lives—urgh!”
The giant’s words stopped abruptly.
Muk Yeojin’s fist had cleaved through the air like lightning and buried itself in his belly.
He twisted the single blow, driven so deeply that it seemed the abdomen might split wide open.
Crunch-crunch-crunch!
“Krraaahhh!”
The sound of intestines tearing apart inside the giant’s belly rang out savagely, and he collapsed, vomiting blood from the agony of Severed Intestines.
Thud.
“Boss!?”
Clang!
The remaining thugs drew out weapons they’d concealed beneath burlap.
Muk Yeojin regarded them with a bone-chilling killing intent.
“You dare gaze upon someone with those filthy eyes? Should you gouge out your own eyeballs, I’ll spare your lives at least.”
“This madman! Kill him!”
From all directions, swords, short blades, iron maces, axes, and flying daggers came hurling in.
A chaotic battle erupted inside the inn in an instant.
And a chaotic battle was Muk Yeojin’s truest domain.
Muk Yeojin quickly assessed the situation.
‘In Zhejiang, I must conceal my identity thoroughly.’
If he drew upon his power, someone might sense the flow of Changgung Energy.
But Sanwangmu was his sworn brother Maeng Ak’s Secret Martial Art.
It meant he could deploy his techniques freely without any concern.
Thud!
He drew upon the rebound generated by a heavy pivot, channeling the full force through his right fist.
Sanwangmu—this technique, the Shattering Fist.
He drove the right fist from his waist in one fluid motion.
A straightforward strike, nothing elaborate.
One thug raised his Broad Blade to block the blow, but it was a grave mistake.
Muk Yeojin’s fist, laden with tremendous force, shattered the Broad Blade and drove straight through into the man’s chest.
Crack!
His body, unable to withstand the power, flew toward the wall and only then came to rest as it struck.
The man made not a sound.
He could not make a sound.
The moment he was struck, his vital channels were already severed, and he died instantly.
The fate of those who rushed at him thereafter was no different.
As one thug charged from behind, aiming for his back with his right leg extended as his pivot, Muk Yeojin spun around and used the rotational force to crush his jaw with his elbow.
Whistle!
A spear blade came hurtling toward his thigh.
Muk Yeojin seized the spear shaft and yanked, pulling the panicked wielder straight toward him.
And waiting for his head was none other than Muk Yeojin’s left palm.
Boom!
The man who came flying struck the corner wall with his skull crushed inward.
Muk Yeojin didn’t even unsheathe his sword, moving through the rabble wielding weapons with only his fists and palms, cutting a path of devastation in all directions.
Thwack!
Thud!
All of those who took the full force of his blows had stopped breathing.
Every point where Muk Yeojin struck was a Death Acupoint.
No trace of mercy in those hands—a brutally extreme technique.
Deep terror settled across the faces of the Falak Tiger men.
Ssshhh!
Behind Muk Yeojin, his razor-sharp killing intent rose like a tangible specter.
Bu Yeon, clutching a small Short Blade inside his sleeve in case Muk Yeojin found himself in danger, swallowed hard.
‘I’d forgotten. Muk Yeojin—he’s a warrior of Sadocheon, after all.’
Beyond simply providing information about his sister, Muk Yeojin had maintained an unfailingly courteous demeanor throughout the entire journey to Zhejiang.
He treated Bu Yeon not as a subordinate, but as an old friend would—exchanging lighthearted jests and idle banter.
Bu Yeon had taken him for a rare sort of good man, one with genuine humanity.
But now, in this moment, that good man had vanished without trace.
No matter how wicked his opponent, he slaughtered without so much as a blink—cold, methodical butchery.
Even though that terrible killing intent was not directed at him, Bu Yeon’s knees trembled.
In moments.
Every man who had been threatening Bu Yeon and Muk Yeojin now lay grotesquely strewn across the inn floor.
Muk Yeojin swept his gaze across the room.
Plenty of other patrons still remained in the inn.
“Anyone else looking for trouble?”
Silence hung in the air.
The patrons who had been staring at Muk Yeojin suddenly burst into laughter.
“As if! What a fierce bastard!”
“Ha! Those dogs got what was coming to them! Kehehehe!”
The survivors resumed their boisterous chatter as though nothing had happened, clinking their cups together.
Bu Yeon turned to Muk Yeojin with an expression of complete bewilderment.
Muk Yeojin chuckled and explained.
“Through that little display, they’ve understood that we’re strong enough to ignore Zhejiang’s Unwritten Rules. So they’ve stopped paying us any mind.”
“But… even with all that bloodshed, they just went back to drinking so calmly?”
“This is Zhejiang, Bu Dae-in.”
Only then did the innkeeper emerge from the kitchen.
“Welcome, honored warriors! My goodness, what a mess. Just ten silver pieces and I’ll clean this up spotless before you eat.”
Even the innkeeper’s tone left Bu Yeon barely able to suppress a hollow laugh.
Toss.
Muk Yeojin tossed out an entire Pouch of Silver from his possession.
“My master doesn’t eat cheap fare. Bring your finest food and wine. Keep the change.”
What good fortune was this?
The innkeeper’s mouth stretched skyward as he peered into the pouch.
“Of course, honored sir!”
Soon the table overflowed with food and drink.
Muk Yeojin turned to Bu Yeon.
“Word travels fast in this place. Soon, scavengers who hear of this will come prowling. We’ll use them to gain entry to Chosongru’s Black Mark tournament.”

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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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