Return of the God of War - Chapter 72

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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 72. Should I be called this way?
The Inner Sect Disciples of the Baekdo Sect share a common tendency.
From childhood, they’ve lived lives where restraint and abstinence are imposed upon them to a certain degree.
Of course, individual differences exist.
It’s only natural that discontent accumulates in the hearts of those raised in such an environment.
Cheonguhyeon is a place where such Inner Sect Disciples often gather to socialize.
In other words, it’s a haven for the youthful indiscretions of Baekdo’s sons.
But for the sect’s sheltered young gentlemen—those who’ve never known play their entire lives—
there’s a special term used in certain circles.
They’re called “suckers” or “marks.”
So Cheonguhyeon is a place where suckers come to get fleeced and con artists come to do the fleecing.
And here, a handsome youth prowled for just such suckers.
Yang Hui was surveying his hunting ground.
From his favored vantage point overlooking the main boulevard of Cheonguhyeon, he’d been sitting and waiting for two time periods already.
But he didn’t give up.
The foundation of hunting is patience, and its virtue is endurance.
And soon enough, as if his effort were rewarded—
“……!”
Yang Hui’s eyes snapped open.
‘Caught one!’
He exulted inwardly.
His gaze fell upon a pair of them.
A young man and woman of such striking beauty they seemed untouched by the ordinary world around them.
Both wore the finest silk robes, draped in heavy ornaments so profusely it seemed excessive.
At a glance, they were the perfect pairing—a young master and lady from some wealthy household.
A jackpot mark combination, as he saw it.
Yet strangely, the professional con artists of Cheonguhyeon weren’t easily approaching them.
It was because an untouchable aura emanated from the pair.
Yang Hui let out a scornful laugh.
“Idiots. That’s why you’re amateurs. You’re after a great fish in a vast lake—so why do you fear drowning?”
He rose abruptly from his seat, straightened his clothes, and walked confidently into the street.
Strolling leisurely along the boulevard, Yang Hui finally reached the pair.
On impulse, he spread his Qi Perception wide, taking their measure.
‘Just as I thought—nothing remarkable about either the man or the woman. But what’s that Wooden Box the woman’s carrying?’
The young woman bore on her back a wooden box larger than her own torso.
Recalling how courtesans sometimes stored their zithers in such boxes, Yang Hui dismissed it as merely a musical instrument without much thought.
Then, with a gentle smile and a cordial expression, he struck up conversation.
“Pardon the intrusion. I’m Yang Hui. Is this perhaps your first time in Cheonguhyeon?”
Between the young man and woman—
Muk Yeojin, who served as the “young man” of the pair, nodded.
“Indeed.”
Yang Hui quickly appraised their bearing.
‘Both have an air of nobility, but they don’t resemble each other.’
No blood relation, then.
In that case—
“Ah! You must be on your honeymoon!”
“Pfft.”
Muk Yeojin stifled a bursting laugh.
At the same moment—
Flinch.
A chill seeped into Yang Hui’s spine.
For just an instant, a murderous killing intent had descended upon him like a tremendous weight.
‘What… what was that?’
His body hair stood on end, and his Danjeon’s energy surged of its own accord.
He swore he’d never felt such a keen, cutting pressure in his life.
It was as if a great tiger loomed behind him, fangs bared at his throat.
Startled, Yang Hui reflexively looked around.
But the street remained utterly peaceful.

No matter where he looked, there was no one who could possibly be radiating such a terrifying murderous intent.
‘It must have been… my imagination.’
His heart still wouldn’t settle, hammering in his chest.
The shock had been considerable; Yang Hui stood motionless with a dazed expression for a long moment.
That was when Muk Yeojin glanced subtly to the side.
The source of that killing intent was, of course, Cheon Hwarin.
He reached out to her through Sound Transmission.
‘You showed admirable restraint.’
‘Tsk.’
Cheon Hwarin made no reply, only clicked her tongue.
In the turn of her gaze, displeasure was written plain across her features.
Meanwhile, Yang Hui continued to glance nervously at his surroundings, still uneasy.
Unable to watch any longer, Muk Yeojin tapped him on the shoulder and spoke.
“If you happen to know this area well, might you introduce us to a decent tavern? I assure you my gratitude will be generous.”
“Eh? Ah! Yes.”
Yang Hui, finally snapping back to his senses, replied in a flustered rush.
His words had caught in his throat for a moment, but soon he recovered, offering a warm smile and nodding readily.
“I’m familiar with most of the taverns in Cheonguhyeon. There’s one place in particular that would suit you both perfectly—elegant yet quiet, with a certain refined elegance to it.”
The way he spilled forth flattery looked exactly like the work of a practiced con artist.
Muk Yeojin chuckled softly and spoke.
“Then lead us there, if you would.”
“Of course! I shall escort you at once.”
A short while later.
The three of them arrived at a tavern called Hojungru in the western part of Cheonguhyeon.
It wasn’t quite as grand as Yang Hui had exaggerated, but it was a respectable establishment nonetheless.
“Since we’ve met by fortune, shall we dine together? The meal is on me.”
“Oh! Well, I’m grateful then. Go on up to a room first, please. I’ll just visit the privy and catch up with you shortly.”
“Very well.”
So Muk Yeojin and Cheon Hwarin followed the guide upstairs.
At that moment, Dan Young, the proprietor of Hojungru, approached Yang Hui.
“Brother Hui, what grade are these ones today? They look like they’ve got coin to spare. Premium?”
Yang Hui grinned and answered.
“Top tier. Today’s a real top-tier mark. Send up some rough appetizers and grab what’s left of the Confusion Powder. Get it ready.”
Yang Hui’s plan was simple.
Get them drunk on drink laced with Confusion Powder, then overcharge them while they slept.
Of course, Muk Yeojin was perched atop the rafters above.
With his Qi Perception drawn to full strength, eavesdropping on whispers from the floor below
was nothing at all.
‘You’ve really picked the wrong mark today, Hui.’
Shortly after, Yang Hui entered the room carrying a tray of drinks.
“I brought these up on the way. Haha.”
With practiced ease, Yang Hui set out the drinks and quickly raised a bottle.
“Now then! Let me pour you each a cup.”
Cheon Hwarin possessed an Absolute Poison Immunity Body, so poison was naturally useless against her; and Muk Yeojin wore a Lotus Wheel up his sleeve, making a poison like Confusion Powder entirely ineffective.
While Muk Yeojin was considering just how to deal with Yang Hui,
Clang!
The wine cup Cheon Hwarin had been holding shattered into fragments.
She, whose mood had been foul from the start, growled first.
“So… can I kill him now?”
Muk Yeojin smiled and cast a Qi Barrier around the entire room.
“Killing him would be rather inconvenient. Shall we compromise on beating him senseless instead?”
At those words, Yang Hui’s eyes widened in bewilderment.
Who was going to beat whom senseless?
His gaze turned toward Cheon Hwarin.
A refined face, a small and delicate frame that looked as though a flower could snap it.
‘Surely not… that woman? Me?’
Yang Hui let out a nervous laugh, attempting to deflect.
“Ha, it seems you’ve seen through my little scheme. Well… I’m not such a heartless fellow, after all. As an apology, the drinks here—gwah!”
Thwack.
Before Yang Hui could even finish his words,
In a flash, Cheon Hwarin’s foot lashed across Yang Hui’s jaw.
‘Oh… my… teeth….’
As one of his front teeth flew through the air, Yang Hui lost consciousness.
* * *
Yang Hui came to.
But his eyes remained closed.
His body refused to obey him.
His acupressure points had been struck—he couldn’t move a single finger.
Through the fog of his tension, he heard the voices of two figures conversing—strange ones, certainly not a pair of refined beauties.
“This third-rate con artist is the eldest son of the Northern River Yang Family?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
The Northern River Yang Family was a prestigious Baekdo clan that stood shoulder to shoulder with the Sichuan Dang Sect in Sichuan Province.
Yang Hui’s blood ran cold.
‘They knew who I was from the start. Damn it—is today the anniversary of my death?’
Then he felt a presence.
Muk Yeojin crouched down in front of him, eyes still closed.
“Hui. I know you’re awake.”
“……”
Yang Hui resolved to play dead no matter what.
He clenched his teeth and made an oath to himself.
‘No matter what, I’m not opening my eyes. I know nothing.’
But Muk Yeojin’s next words scattered his resolve like foam.
“Or should I call you this instead—Divine Thief?”
“…!”
Yang Hui’s eyes snapped open reflexively.
Shock had turned to pure alarm on his face.
“How… how do you know that?”
Cheon Hwarin’s eyes narrowed as she studied him.
“Divine Thief? You don’t mean the famous thief, the Heavenly Thief, is actually this fool?”
Muk Yeojin nodded.
“Yes. To be precise, he is the second-generation Divine Thief.”
A man of extraordinary talent—not in Mugong, but in other arts—one who had earned a name across Cheonha: a member of the Five Seats of Extraordinary Heaven.
The Heavenly Thief, who had secured one of those five seats through theft across all of Cheonha.
That man lay sprawled on the floor before them now—Yang Hui.
He was also the one who had revealed the location of the Lotus Wheel on Muk Yeojin’s wrist.
And he was the second trusted ally Muk Yeojin had chosen for this matter of the Broadaxe Gang.
Yang Hui felt his mind spin.
He half-wondered if a ghost had possessed him.
How could they possibly know he was the Divine Thief?
‘My master would never have told anyone. So how…?’
Muk Yeojin let out a soft laugh.
“I can hear the wheels turning in your head from here, Hui.”
“……”
Yang Hui finally gave in and opened his mouth.
“What… what do you want from me?”
Muk Yeojin spoke plainly.
“Help us with one job. In return, I’ll keep the secret that the eldest son of the Northern River Yang Family is the Divine Thief.”
Yang Hui’s guard remained up.
“How am I supposed to trust your word?”
“I swear it on my father’s name.”
Cheon Hwarin added her voice from the side.
“I also swear on my father’s name that we will keep our promise.”
Yang Hui’s brow furrowed.
“Just who are your fathers, anyway…?”
Muk Yeojin and Cheon Hwarin spoke at the same time.
“Cheonju of Sadocheon, Muk Umyeong.”
“Sect Master of the Heavenly Demon Sect, Cheon Ilhwi.”
Thump.
It felt as though his heart had fallen through the floor.
Yang Hui found himself speechless.
He could only stare blankly at the two of them.
And then, finally, a single word escaped his lips.
“……You would do better to kill me.”

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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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