The Great Heavenly Sword Emperor - Chapter 4

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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 4. The Gwiwang-jeon (2)

Cheon Mujgyeol regarded the monk in silence.
“May I take that silence as an affirmative answer?”
“What made you think I’m a survivor of Cheongeomjang?”
The monk seemed to interpret Cheon Mujgyeol’s response as a confirmation.
With a pleased smile, he continued methodically.
“We are an information organization. From the moment you first arrived at Bojeonsa yesterday, we began working to ascertain your identity. A strange man who appeared in this village some time ago, reeking of filth.”
Cheon Mujgyeol listened without interruption.
“Regardless of the cause, it’s hardly difficult to backtrack the movements of someone who draws such attention. Wherever one goes, one leaves a mark—for better or worse. When we traced your path, we found that our last point and your starting point were not far from Cheongeomjang.”
“You’re mistaking coincidence for fact.”
“Perhaps. But multiple circumstantial pieces of evidence—things we cannot fully disclose—all pointed to you being a Cheongeomjang survivor. Most of all, we knew something: twenty years ago, when everyone at Cheongeomjang perished, only one body was never found.”
Cheon Mujgyeol was inwardly surprised that they knew this much, but his expression remained unchanged.
“Which is why we staged last night’s incident. The massacre at Cheongeomjang, your movements, and the skill required to knock down ten men without killing them—all of it.”
The monk was systematically tightening his net.
“Now I must ask: what is your name?”
Cheon Mujgyeol did not answer.
More precisely, he was hesitating.
Should he speak, or stay silent?
After a brief moment of deliberation, Cheon Mujgyeol’s lips finally opened.
“Cheon Mujgyeol.”
“Just as I thought!”
The monk beamed with the satisfaction of one whose prediction had proven correct, and rose from his seat.
Cheon Mujgyeol’s gaze followed him.
The monk stood erect, pressed his palms together in reverence, and bowed deeply toward Cheon Mujgyeol.
“To the descendant of the Great Master of Cheongeomjang, Gwangan, abbot of Bojeonsa, offers his formal respects.”
Gwangan’s greeting was deferential.
Cheon Mujgyeol, remaining seated, received his bow in silence.
Gwangan returned to his seat.
Then, wearing a subtle smile, he spoke again.
“Your identity will remain secret until there is no further need to conceal it. Rest assured.”
“But you said the lifeblood of an information organization is information. Why would you keep this secret?”
“There are two reasons. First, your martial prowess. If your identity were to leak out in any way, Bojeonsa’s fortunes would end there. Second, it is a token of trust. On that foundation of trust, Bojeonsa wishes to conduct business with you.”
“Business.”
“Precisely. You are more than capable of providing us with the information we seek. And we, armed with what you provide, can offer you the information you need in return. Is that not mutually beneficial?”
Cheon Mujgyeol posed a question to the adept Gwangan.
“What information does Bojeonsa desire?”
“Everything about the men you killed at Cheongeomjang.”
“Then I have nothing to give you. I truly know nothing about them. And…”
Cheon Mujgyeol paused, his gaze falling on the silver coin resting on the table.
“This coin came from one of those I killed. Which means information about the dead is precisely what I came to ask of Bojeonsa.”
At Cheon Mujgyeol’s reply, Gwangan smiled knowingly.
“Did I not say that, armed with your information, we can provide you with what you need in return? You’ve already given us one piece of that puzzle.”
Tap-tap!
Gwangan tapped lightly near the coin with his fingertips.
“You showed us this coin. Combined with what we already know, it allows us to discover much more.”
“Then why not have Bojeonsa investigate the matter directly, rather than asking me?”
“Gathering information cannot rely solely on one’s own strength. In the course of investigation, one inevitably reaches dead ends. And there will surely be details that only you can know—things beyond our reach. We pool what we’ve uncovered, you provide what you’ve discovered, and together we piece together the whole.”
“What profit does it bring Bojeonsa to uncover these men’s identities?”
“Enormous profit. It depends on who they are, but the martial realm contains many factions, and there are certainly those who would pay dearly for such knowledge. The world is wide, and people are many—it would be foolish to underestimate their curiosity and ambition.”
Gwangan answered with conviction.
“Very well.”
Cheon Mujgyeol replied tersely.
How Bojeonsa used such information was no concern of his.
What mattered was that Bojeonsa could provide him with answers.
“Thank you. I assure you, you will be satisfied.”
“But today it seems I was the only one giving information. I’ve received nothing in return.”
Gwangan smiled at Cheon Mujgyeol’s response, as if to say there was nothing to worry about.
“Haha! You don’t think I’d only take and give nothing in return, do you? This silver coin is called the Gwiwang-jeon.”
“Gwiwang-jeon.”
“Yes. I’ve only read about it in documents and heard rumors of it, but this is the first time I’ve seen one with my own eyes. However, if the information I have is accurate, this coin is indeed a Gwiwang-jeon.”
“Then what is the identity of those who possess the Gwiwang-jeon?”
“The Gwiwang-jeon is a coin created by Gwigok, an assassin organization that was once notorious for its renown. To place a contract with Gwigok, one must possess these coins. Moreover, since Gwigok’s assassins were spread out like a dotted network, the coins served as one of the means by which they could verify each other’s identities.”
“Gwigok, you say. Where is their headquarters?”
“As I mentioned earlier, since Gwigok was spread out like a dotted network, there is no place that could be called their base of operations. And there is one more thing. The assassins of Gwigok vanished like ghosts some ten years ago. True to their very name.”
“So you’re saying you don’t know.”
“That is correct. From this point forward, you must bring the information to us. Whether those who carried the Gwiwang-jeon are the vanished assassins of Gwigok, or imposters using the Gwigok name, or whether Gwigok’s assassins were absorbed into some other organization entirely—these are questions only you can answer.”
“Are you saying Bojeonsa will do nothing until then?”
“How could that be? We have our own ways of gaining access. Besides, since we are now in the same boat as you, we intend to investigate and compile beforehand any information that you might find useful in the future.”
At Gwangan’s answer, Cheon Mujgyeol gave a small nod.
“Very well. Let us proceed on that basis.”
“Then, I look forward to our continued cooperation.”
Gwangan’s expression brightened, as though he had secured a satisfactory bargain.

* * *

Though Cheon Mujgyeol had obtained information from Bojeonsa, his return left him feeling lost.
He now knew the coin was called the Gwiwang-jeon, and that it had been made and used by assassins of Gwigok, but that was where the thread ended.
He could not fathom how to locate the assassins of Gwigok who had vanished a decade ago, much less how to unravel their mystery.
What was he to do?
Cheon Mujgyeol’s brooding deepened, and considerable time passed.
Knock, knock.
Then, he sensed a presence outside, and soon the door opened as the innkeeper carefully poked his head inside.
“I, um…”
“Is something the matter?”
“You haven’t come down for a meal…”
Since that day, the innkeeper had been watching Cheon Mujgyeol’s mood very carefully.
“Meals are fine. But there is something I’d like to ask you.”
“Ah, yes.”
At Cheon Mujgyeol’s words, the innkeeper awkwardly stepped inside the room.
“Do you know a way to meet an assassin?”
“An, an assassin?”
The innkeeper startled visibly.
“Yes. Since I know nothing about it.”
“Well, I haven’t tried it myself, so I don’t know much, but I recall hearing that if you go through Heukjeomsa, it can be arranged somehow…”
“What is Heukjeomsa?”
“They’re… a vicious bunch. Wicked men who do terrible things. They apparently connect clients with assassins. Without Heukjeomsa, it’s said to be difficult to meet an assassin directly.”
“I see. Thank you.”
At Cheon Mujgyeol’s words, the innkeeper wiped cold sweat from his brow and hastily left the room.
‘Phew… Why assassins again! Damn it! Why’d he have to show up at our inn and cause all this trouble?! Please, just leave already, would you!’
The innkeeper, his face ashen, moved his feet forward while venting words inside that he could never speak aloud.

The next day, Cheon Mujgyeol set out to find Heukjeomsa.
As he asked around about Heukjeomsa, people fearfully avoided him, but he managed to learn its location nonetheless.
A place quite far from the village’s outskirts.
There stood a dilapidated house, where three burly men were engaged in a drinking session in broad daylight.
“Ha! Now that’s what I call midday drinking!”
“You, setting out snacks like you own the place, and you dare talk about midday drinking! Stop eating and shut your mouth and actually drink!”
“Oh, you’re one to talk!”
The men hurled crude insults at each other as they chugged their liquor straight from the bottle.
While the three were in the thick of their drunken revelry, a figure appeared.
It was Cheon Mujgyeol.
“Is this Heukjeomsa?”
At Cheon Mujgyeol’s voice, all three men’s heads turned in unison.
They then stared at him with half-lidded eyes and waved him away dismissively.
“We’re not working today, so get lost! We’re trying to enjoy our drinking—don’t bring business into this!”
At that voice, Cheon Mujgyeol fell silent, standing motionless as he watched them.
“There’s a reason for my request—might I ask just one thing of you?”
“No, no, absolutely not! We’re not taking jobs! There are other assassin houses besides Heukjeomsa! Go find one of them!”
“Then, might you direct me to another place?”
“Why would I?! Kehehehehe! We won’t take the job, so we can’t send business to someone else either! Come back tomorrow!”
“Hahahaha! Right! Can’t be fattening up the competition!”
The three men were toying with him.
Yet through it all, Cheon Mujgyeol waited patiently for their mockery to end.
“Does this bastard have shit in his ears? Can’t you hear? Get out!”
With that, one of the three lurched to his feet and staggered toward Cheon Mujgyeol.
“Hey! Don’t go beating on people and making a fuss!”
“Ah! Don’t worry! I’ll give him a light touch and send him on his way!”
The man who’d boasted so loudly now stood before Cheon Mujgyeol.
“Fuuu~”
Then he exhaled a long, sour breath reeking of alcohol directly into Cheon Mujgyeol’s face.
“Oops! Sorry about that. Didn’t see you standing there!”
The man sneered with a slurred tongue, then forced his eyes wide and glared as he spoke.
“You’ll get a beating if you don’t leave! Come on!”
Then he raised his hand casually to tap Cheon Mujgyeol’s cheek a couple of times.
Crack!
“Aaaahhh!”
“What—!”
“What the hell did that bastard—!”
At the sudden scream, the other two jerked upright in shock.
The man who’d meant to drive Cheon Mujgyeol out sat crumpled on the ground, cradling his hand and screaming—one of his fingers bent at an impossible angle.
“There’s a reason for my request—so let’s set down the drinking and get to work.”
Cheon Mujgyeol spoke with an expression and tone utterly devoid of emotion.
At that sight, the men felt their drunkenness evaporate in an instant.

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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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