The Fortunate Sword God of the Zhuge Clan - Chapter 39

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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 39.
The last heir of the Yang Family, whom the Ming Imperial Court sought to erase.
In truth, Mu Hun had never formed a deep connection with that man in his previous life.
Yet despite this, Mu Hun was certain that if it were this man, he would surely lead the Cheon Eung Group that Mu Hun was about to establish with excellence.
Mu Hun recalled the figure of that man who had sought him out in the middle of the war, battered and broken.
—Are you the Grand Marshal of the Martial Alliance?
The man who had penetrated the Alliance’s stringent security and stood before him asked with a sinister gleam in his eyes.
—I am. I am the Grand Marshal of this Alliance, Je Gal Mu Hun. And who might you be?
—My name is Yang Mu-jin. You may not have heard of my name, but surely you’ve heard of the Yang Family Patriarch.
—The Yang Family Patriarch? You don’t mean the Yang Family Patriarch from those legends, do you?
—Not legends. All those stories are fact. Though, such things are hardly important.
The man who had abruptly introduced himself as the last heir of a family from stories then suddenly knelt before Mu Hun and prostrated himself.
—…What in the world—
To the flustered Mu Hun, Yang Mu-jin spoke with unwavering conviction.
—I beg of you to grant my request.
—A request?
—Yes. I….
“Mu Hun. You’ve come, but are you truly certain about this?”
His uncle. Je Gal Cheon Ju’s question pulled Mu Hun from his reverie.
“Which aspect concerns you, Uncle?”
“Well… I know you’ve recovered and reached the Peak Realm as a martial artist. But gambling halls are an entirely different matter. This place is… how should I put it, rather dangerous.”
There was good reason for such words.
The place where the two stood was none other than Ho Buk’s largest gambling establishment—the Geum Sa Ru.
Mu Hun surveyed the exterior of Geum Sa Ru and shrugged lightly.
The four-story building made no pretense of hiding its nature as a gambling hall; its outer walls were painted entirely in gold.
“While gambling halls are indeed places where one can glimpse the depths of human nature, if anything, isn’t Geum Sa Ru relatively respectable among them? You yourself know this, which is why you visit here frequently, Uncle.”
In Ho Buk and throughout the Ming realm, one could not openly conduct gambling operations so brazenly.
However, Geum Sa Ru’s circumstances were rather different.
If it were impossible to eradicate gambling altogether, why not establish an official gambling house where people could indulge in it more respectably?
The proprietor of Geum Sa Ru had submitted this seemingly impossible proposal to the local authorities.
By “respectable,” it meant creating a vast establishment devoted solely to gambling—free of courtesans, free of violence, nothing but gambling itself.
Under normal circumstances, such a thing could never be permitted, but the proprietor of Geum Sa Ru was no ordinary man.
He was the guild master of the Geum Sa Merchant Guild, a massive trading organization, and was himself a martial artist of considerable strength.
Though his exact realm remained unknown, rumors had already spread that he employed several masters who surpassed the Peak Realm under his command.
Thus, he spoke with confidence that he alone could prevent violence within Geum Sa Ru.
His accumulated wealth and reputation built over years as a guild master proved persuasive enough to win over the local magistrates.
But what of the Je Gal Clan and the Mu Dang Sect—Ho Buk’s two largest factions, separate from the government?
Despite their reputation as righteous sects, these two organizations showed surprisingly little aversion to Geum Sa Ru.
The principal reason was that Geum Sa Ru had been built on the outskirts of Ho Buk.
Even for factions as renowned as the Nine Schools One Alliance Five Great Families, maintaining order across all outlying regions was difficult.
However, since Geum Sa Ru’s establishment, the security of Ho Buk’s outskirts had stabilized rapidly.
Those who gathered at the gambling hall were naturally a rough element prone to banditry; whenever they grew restless and threatened disorder, the martial artists of Geum Sa Ru would suppress them, and so the safety of the surrounding area improved naturally.
Thus, Geum Sa Ru had gained recognition from both the government and the martial world, and had developed into something of a tourist attraction in Ho Buk.
Je Gal Cheon Ju, well aware of these circumstances, nodded with a resigned expression.
“…Geum Sa Ru is the better choice, I suppose, but it’s hardly the sort of place to bring a nephew to….”
“Heh heh. If you say it that way, then strictly speaking, it’s not a place you yourself ought to visit either, is it?”
“…Well, that’s true enough.”
“Moreover, that Precious Sword is hardly an ordinary blade. It’s the sword Grandfather gave to you—if word reaches Father, the main house would overturn Geum Sa Ru itself. Settling this among ourselves benefits both the main house and you, does it not?”
In his previous life, after all, an enraged Je Gal Cheon Sung had met directly with the proprietor of Geum Sa Ru and paid a considerable sum to retrieve the Precious Sword.
As a result, both Je Gal Cheon Ju himself and the clan’s honor had been tarnished.
“…You’re right.”
Je Gal Cheon Ju lowered his head with an embarrassed expression.
Mu Hun smiled wryly at the sight.
‘Aside from his fondness for gambling, Uncle is one of the most righteous men I know.’
Even when the Je Gal Clan was on the verge of collapse in his previous life, it was Je Gal Cheon Ju who had held his position and provided the greatest assistance in Mu Hun’s entry into the Martial Alliance.
Moreover, after difficult missions, he would always bring medicinal tonics for the sickly Mu Hun’s health.
Given how great the debt owed to him was, Mu Hun had stepped forward to help Je Gal Cheon Ju, who as an elder of a great family had committed the shameful act of losing the Precious Sword through gambling.
‘Of course, finding Yang Mu-jin is also a matter of grave importance.’
Mu Hun reviewed his plan to accomplish both objectives once more as he rummaged through his travel pack.
“Still, the items Uncle prepared should prove quite useful.”
Mu Hun drew out the items Je Gal Cheon Ju had prepared from his pack.
“The craftsmanship on this Human Skin Mask, in particular, is truly extraordinary.”
With the mask in place, Mu Hun transformed in an instant into an ordinary youth of around twenty, the sort you might see anywhere.
Je Gal Cheon Ju, who had likewise donned a mask and taken on the rough appearance of a middle-aged bandit with coarse whiskers, grinned widely.
“Ha! What did I tell you? It’s a premium product among those made from pigskin. It’s not something just anyone can easily procure. With this, we won’t be discovered as Je Gal Clan members anywhere under heaven!”
Both men were tall enough to match the Je Gal bloodline, and given that Mu Hun’s striking looks were now refined even further at the Peak Realm—looks that turned heads wherever he walked—nothing could have been better for concealing him.
The two then changed into the garments Je Gal Cheon Ju had also prepared.
“Certainly. Of course, it would have been even better if you hadn’t visited the gambling house in the first place….”
“Hmm….”
An awkward silence hung for a moment, but Mu Hun continued as though it were nothing.
“Still, what’s done is done. What matters is what comes next, doesn’t it?”
“Y-yes. But do you truly think this plan of yours will unfold as smoothly as you claim?”
Je Gal Cheon Ju’s voice trembled slightly.
The plan Mu Hun had shared beforehand sounded brilliant enough in theory, but its difficulty seemed far too high.
At this, Mu Hun smiled faintly.
“What do you believe is most important in gambling, uncle?”
“Hmm? What an odd question.”
Je Gal Cheon Ju folded his arms, pondering the sudden query.
“Well… fundamentally, I’d say composure to analyze how the Dealer conducts each hand. Psychology in playing against others betting their money. And the resolve to act decisively in critical moments… wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes. You speak rightly. All of those things are indeed important.”
“It sounds as though you believe something else matters more.”
Mu Hun did not deny it.
“In my view, the most important thing in gambling is not losing.”
At his words, Je Gal Cheon Ju blinked and let out a soft laugh.
“Ha… Mu Hun. What you say is true enough, but if it were that simple, who would ever lose money at the gambling tables? Everyone would be rich.”
“Ah, but that is only when you win.”
“Hmm? Isn’t that the same thing?”
“No. Winning and not losing—these two are quite different.”
So saying, Mu Hun walked calmly toward Geum Sa Ru.
“Seeing is believing. I’ll show you the difference directly.”
***
Knock. Knock.
A secluded corner on the third floor of Geum Sa Ru.
A man rapped on an ordinary wooden door that seemed wholly out of place in Geum Sa Ru, with its gold leaf adorning every surface.
From within the innermost chamber, accessible only to Dealers, came no sign of life, yet the man knew someone was there.
The man, with whiskers groomed as neatly as an official’s and a hat upon his head, exhaled a long breath.
“Yang. I apologize for disturbing your rest, but I’m afraid you’ll need to come out.”
The wooden door gave no response to the man’s words.
Though surely he must have heard.
“Yang. Will you truly not come?”
The man, still facing the silent door, clicked his tongue lightly.
“If you resolve this matter for us, I’m prepared to discuss your compensation separately….”
Creak—
The moment compensation was mentioned, the silent wooden door slowly swung open.
The man regarded the figure who emerged with an expression of exasperation.
Though it was well past the Hour of Monkey—past three o’clock in the afternoon—and he appeared to have been sleeping, with his hair tousled and wild, his frame of nearly six feet tall gave him the bearing of a bandit.
Yet sharp jawline and a high, prominent nose, combined with eyes half-closed and drowsy, lent his features an almost mysterious allure.
But such superficial attractiveness was not the concern now.
The man called Yang—Yang Mu-jin—asked in a low, languid voice.
“What brings you to wake a sleeping man? A brawl? Or gambling?”
“…It’s a gambling matter.”
At the man’s reply, Yang Mu-jin’s eyes widened with surprise.
“Someone’s taken a heavy loss? Our Dealers shouldn’t be that incompetent, should they?”
“Not a heavy loss exactly… but in the end, yes, it amounts to that.”
“What?”
At Yang Mu-jin’s confused expression, the man sighed once more.
“…You’ll need to see for yourself downstairs.”
***
“Dammit! How in blazes could they draw such a high hand?”
A stout man clutched at his head with both hands, wailing.
A Dealer distributed cards to five players, each vying to claim the highest hand in a game of Multi-player Card Game.
He had been leading through most of the rounds, and with such promising cards in his hand, he’d wagered everything he had left—only to lose.
The Dealer, accustomed to such outbursts, announced the rankings in a flat, businesslike tone.
“Very well. First place this round goes to Jo Mal Deok. Second place to Sang Du. And third place….”
The Dealer’s expression turned peculiar.
“Again belongs to Mu Yeon.”
Mu Yeon, named third once more.
Mu Hun, wearing the Human Skin Mask, nodded lightly.
“Through so many rounds, and yet I keep landing third. What a pity.”
The gazes fixed on Mu Yeon were far from kind.
“…And yet, you have never once lost money.”
“What good is that? In the end, if I don’t win big, there was no reason to come to Geum Sa Ru. Wouldn’t you agree, Sang Chul?”
The man standing beside Mu Yeon, guarding him. Sang Chul.
Je Gal Cheon Ju, wearing the Human Skin Mask, nodded.
“Indeed. A true gambler knows that the bigger the stakes, the better. Your courage is so small—is that not why you cannot rise beyond third?”
“Wisely spoken. Truly, I wonder where I might procure some Clarity Pill….”
Though his words seemed to mock Mu Yeon on the surface, Je Gal Cheon Ju was in fact forcibly suppressing the corners of his mouth from rising.
—Magnificent! Mu Hun! Third place through over a dozen rounds! This is it! This is the art of Not Losing!
To Je Gal Cheon Ju’s trembling transmission, Mu Yeon nodded lightly and spoke words devoid of genuine feeling.
“Next round, I shall certainly take home a fortune! Come now, deal again!”
Yang Mu-jin, watching from a distance, shrugged his shoulders.
“Seems like Sang Chul’s really committed today.”
Sang Chul—Je Gal Cheon Ju—was such a frequent patron of Geum Sa Ru that Yang Mu-jin knew him by name.
“Probably brought this expert to find that Precious Sword that got taken from him before.”
At first glance, it was no ordinary blade.
The loss of it seemed to have become a serious matter, and so he’d apparently dredged up another gambling circle to find this expert, hoping to recoup his losses.
That was Yang Mu-jin’s conclusion about the man called Mu Yeon.
“Still, if he keeps placing third like that, can’t our Dealers at least catch a hint of his technique? His hands must be impossibly fast?”
To Yang Mu-jin’s question, the man who had come down with him exhaled deeply.
“That man does not employ Hand Technique.”
“What? Then what is it? Is Sang Chul using some kind of mirror to peek at others’ cards?”
“That is not it either. We have suspected every possibility….”
The man continued, his tone one of disbelief.
“It seems he truly achieves third place through skill alone, with no tricks whatsoever.”
“…What?”
Yang Mu-jin stared at Mu Yeon in disbelief.
“That doesn’t make sense. Is such a thing even possible?”
“…That is the only conclusion we can reach.”
“Hah….”
Never losing money through pure skill alone?
Yang Mu-jin found it difficult to comprehend, but for Mu Hun, it was possible.
The strategy was simple.
What was the greatest reason for losing at gambling?
It was human greed—the inability to restrain oneself when holding a strong hand, the desperate desire to wager everything for a larger prize.
Mu Hun had eliminated all such greed, and pursued only a single goal: Not Losing.
To place first, one had to accept considerable risk, but to take modest winnings at third place was not impossible—provided one remained composed.
Especially for Mu Hun, who possessed Perfect Memory and could calculate his opponents’ hands to a reasonable degree.
And so, wearing the mask of Mu Yeon, Mu Hun had never lost money once, steadily accumulating wealth until he could now participate in games where truly vast sums changed hands.
Yet from Geum Sa Ru’s perspective, this was unacceptable.
There could not exist someone who won unconditionally.
Not only for the house’s basic profit structure, but if others—those who had lost money—perceived such consistent gain, they would suspect collusion between Geum Sa Ru and this man.
And for Geum Sa Ru, which had obtained its license through trust and official sanction, such suspicion was intolerable.
“Which is precisely why we summoned you, sir.”
At the man’s words, Yang Mu-jin nodded with interest.
“Right. This is certainly a problem I need to handle personally.”
Yang Mu-jin walked slowly toward Mu Yeon and Sang Chul.
There was no hesitation in his stride.
‘Even if this man truly employs no tricks at all.’
Yang Mu-jin harbored no doubt that he would lose.
The reason was simple.
From childhood itself—a time he scarcely cared to remember—he had never once lost at gambling.
His command of gambling technique rivaled the formidable martial prowess he possessed.
“Well, well. Je Gal Cheon Ju.”
Yang Mu-jin called out to Je Gal Cheon Ju in a bright voice.
Je Gal Cheon Ju, turning around at this, was greatly startled.
“Ah, Yang Mu-jin…!”
‘Yang Mu-jin?’
Upon hearing the name of the man he had been searching for, Mu Hun also turned his head slowly.
“You certainly picked an auspicious day, didn’t you? Is it because of that sword you gave me last time?”
“…Yes. I won’t deny it. I must reclaim that blade—no matter what.”
Je Gal Cheon Ju made no attempt to deny it.
After all, the reason Mu Hun had maintained third rank all this time was ultimately for this very purpose.
“I see. I see… So that’s why you brought this fellow along?”
With that languid voice, the gazes of Mu Hun and Yang Mu-jin tangled in the empty space between them.
“What’s your name, friend?”
“…I go by Mu Hun.”
“Mu Hun. No connection… An alias, then. Well, that’s better if you want to survive in this world.”
Yang Mu-jin curled up the corners of his mouth in a thin smile.
“So how about it—would you care to fight in Je Gal Cheon Ju’s place? With that impressive-looking sword of yours on the line?”
Mu Hun did not deliberate long over Yang Mu-jin’s forthright proposal and answered at once.
“I’ll do it. That’s why I came here in the first place, after all.”
Though there was another purpose beneath it all.
A memory from his past life flickered through Mu Hun’s mind.
—Meager though my martial skills may be, I have a few tricks at my disposal. If you will grant me this one favor, I shall do whatever you ask of me. So please….
—….
—Perform the burial rites for the children.
Mu Hun smiled, faint as gossamer thread.
‘That favor was granted. In this life, you must keep your promise.’

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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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