The Reincarnated Hunter Sweeps Up All Fortunes - Chapter 22

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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 22
Episode 22
Im Gang sat perched on the porch, gazing up at the sky.
Winter was coming, and the sky was clear.
Or was it?
Had the clarity of the sky nothing to do with the season?
“A river is a river, a mountain is a mountain…….”
Five days had passed since returning to Hangzhou.
Tamumon was quiet.
To be precise, it wasn’t just Tamumon that was quiet—something had happened during his brief absence, and all of Hangzhou had fallen silent as a grave.
Even the Commission Office had shaken its head with a deep sigh, saying there was nothing to do.
He could guess what that “something” was well enough.
Heartless Monologue had confessed it readily enough.
Demonic Sect Members.
People commonly called those who mastered Demonic Cultivation “Demonic Cultivators,” and most assumed all Demonic Cultivators were Demonic Sect Members, but the truth was somewhat different.
Not all Demonic Cultivators were Demonic Sect Members.
Some had fled the Demonic Sect or drifted in from elsewhere, having learned Demonic Cultivation through scattered teachings.
‘But this time, it really did seem to be actual Demonic Sect Members.’
Among the truly unhinged of the Unorthodox factions, some did trade with the Demonic Sect.
But normal Unorthodox faction members would never do such a thing.
Why?
Because the Demonic Sect was even more deranged than the craziest of Unorthodox factions.
To begin with, the cultivation method for Demonic Cultivation itself couldn’t be pursued by anyone of sound mind.
Consuming human flesh was par for the course.
Some forms of Demonic Cultivation required sucking marrow to grow stronger.
Others demanded burning one’s own body to master the art.
In his past life, he’d seen plenty of black-magic-tier villains do all manner of sordid and filthy things.
But even if it sounds odd to say it, compared to the methods of Demonic Cultivation, they were angels.
There was a ninety percent chance that Unorthodox faction members who dealt with Demonic Sect Members ended up dead.
Either they were killed after being caught dealing with the Demonic Sect, or killed by the Demonic Sect Members themselves.
But this wasn’t the time to worry about the Demonic Sect Members and the Unorthodox factions.
What he really needed to worry about was Im Gang himself.
It had been the main concern filling his mind these past several days.
“Ugh. When will work finally show up…….”
Im Gang exhaled a small sigh. The Underground Arena had banned contestant participation, the Commission Office had nothing, and he was essentially unemployed.
He’d tried to at least train his Martial Arts, but there was no progress. That cursed master only teaches through real combat, so he doesn’t know any other method.
Why not just watch what the Unorthodox faction sects do and copy them?
Second Rate intermediate level and above, perhaps to the level of First Rate, might be different.
But the rest are all the same.
“Things were easier in my past life…….”
Learn from a skill book, click once, and you’re done.
Real combat was important, of course, but not as much as Martial Arts training itself.
And that wasn’t the only problem.
The Inner Power that had been steadily accumulating suddenly hit a plateau.
Specifically, starting from forty years of Inner Power.
Not a single day’s worth has increased since then.
“……It’s not a matter of Level.”
At Level 10, his Inner Power was roughly twenty-four years. If he had to guess, the capacity of a Second Rate Ronin’s Dantian to hold Inner Power was probably around forty years.
Why did this have to be so annoyingly realistic?
Im Gang liked things easy—he ate fish and meat raw without hesitation.
“If I had my way, I’d coast through life itself……!”
Im Gang cried out softly in frustration, then hastily gathered his gear and headed outside in search of work.
Ronins didn’t find work only at the Commission Office. Hundreds of Ronins—perhaps over a thousand—roamed Hangzhou, so a couple of Commission Offices weren’t the only option.
Where he was headed was the ‘Hangzhou Ronin Association’.
It was an organization formed by dozens of famous Ronins in Hangzhou who had gathered together.
The name sounded grand, but it was essentially a mercenary guild. Aside from the Commission Office, it was one of the few official organizations capable of arranging commissions directly or indirectly.
‘Hm. This is awkward…….’
Im Gang found the Ronin Association uncomfortable because his master had another disciple there.
That disciple acted like a scholar who’d read a lot of books, which was unsettling for someone who wasn’t a typical Hangzhou Ronin.
He’d even thought once before that maybe he was actually a psychopath and a murderer wearing a mask.
Honestly, does it make sense for a ronin to act like a scholar?
That’s why I haven’t visited once in all this time.
If circumstances hadn’t forced my hand, I wouldn’t have come, wouldn’t even have wanted to.
I passed through the clamorous marketplace and arrived at an inn in the Western District, tucked into an obscure corner where customers rarely stumbled upon it.
The building’s aged exterior gave off the unmistakable atmosphere of an old establishment.
This was the Hangzhou Ronin Association’s hideout.
Creak.
The moment I stepped inside, a sharp aura crashed over me. In the past, I would’ve broken into a cold sweat. Now it only drew a scoff.
I’ve felt the aura of a First Rate martial master before—or so I told myself.
I ignored the pressure and swept my gaze across the inn.
A dozen or so ronins bearing the unmistakable marks of blade work—scarred, weathered faces—sat drinking, their heads turning in unison to glare at me.
“…… He’s not here.”
“…… Who?”
“Baek. That’s who.”
At my mention of Baek Do-gwang, the ronins lowered their auras. One of them tilted his cup to his lips, then gestured for me to sit with a casual wave.
“You’re one of Baek’s disciples? I thought you were a spy sent from another ronin association.”
“Wait—if you’re Baek’s disciple, that makes you his student, right?”
“Unless Baek switched masters, which wouldn’t surprise me.”
“Hey, Baek’s student. Want a drink? A real man drinks in the afternoon. Sit here. Innkeeper! One cup over here. What’ll you have for a snack? Something oily goes best with the first drink, I’d say.”
The speed with which they dropped their guard and turned friendly felt strange.
It was another reason I’d been reluctant to visit.
I consider myself reasonably sociable, in my own way.
But these men…… they’re far too gregarious for their own good.
“Have you been here before? For some reason it doesn’t feel unfamiliar.”
“My master…… when he introduced you to Baek, we came along. You probably saw us then. You were pretty small back then, so it’s natural you don’t remember.”
“Ah. So that little runt was you. You’ve grown a lot in a few years. How much taller are you planning to get?”
One of the ronins recalled the younger me with evident delight.
It wasn’t that he was glad to remember me as a child.
He was glad because I’d been the senior’s young disciple.
Their sociability only extended to people connected to the ronin association.
In other words, there was a line, and they only behaved this way with those inside it.
“Time really does fly.”
“Come to think of it, Baek said his youngest disciple’s moniker was the Exceptional Strange Tombstone…… ”
I scowled before the ronin could even finish.
That epithet was genuinely difficult to accept.
If you’re going to give someone a moniker, it should at least sound impressive.
“Where is Baek Do-gwang?”
I cut the conversation short with the question, and the ronins shrugged, looking upward.
“…… Probably scribbling away upstairs.”
“Huh.”
“Baek’s disciple sure has a sharp tongue.”
The ronins fell into a slight funk, their chatter dying.
“…… ?”
I tilted my head. How much had Baek Do-gwang scolded them for them to react like this to such a harmless joke? His scholar act was definitely just that—an act.
“Anyway, he’s upstairs. Go on.”
“Probably reading a book.”
The ronins waved me on, and I left them behind.
I climbed the stairs to the upper floor.
I stood before a room where I sensed movement and knocked.
“Come in.”
The reply came in a disturbingly soft voice.
I rubbed the goosebumps from my arm and pushed the door open, revealing the back of a ronin dressed like a scholar.
“Hey, Baek Do-gwang.”
“…… Mm?”
The ronin turned his head slowly.
Neatly combed-back hair, a few scars, and unblemished pale skin so fine it seemed porcelain—coupled with an intellectual air and robes of jade-green silk that completed the appearance of a scholar or gentleman.
This was my senior, Baek Do-gwang.
“Master!”
“Ugh. Revolting.”
Baek Do-gwang caught sight of me, broke into a wide smile, and rose to his feet. As he stepped forward to embrace me, I recoiled with disgust.
Baek Do-gwang laughed, a hint of disappointment in his expression.
“Ha. My disciple is quite the modest one, aren’t you?”
“Isn’t it stranger for two men to embrace?”
“Ordinarily, yes. But we’re sworn martial brothers under the same master, aren’t we? An embrace between brothers can only speak to our bond.”
…….
No, I prefer women, Im Gang grumbled silently before broaching the real matter.
“Get me a commission, will you?”
“……A commission?”
Baek Do-gwang paused to consider, then spoke.
* * *
Im Gang left the inn.
…….
The raucous chatter inside fell silent in an instant.
Thud.
At the sound of footsteps on the stairs, the ronins turned their heads.
The one they called Baek—
Baek Do-gwang was descending the staircase.
He met their gazes with a faint smile and spoke.
“I’ve decided to entrust this commission to my disciple.”
“A commission? ……Don’t tell me you mean that one that came in recently?”
One of the ronins posed the question, and he nodded in response. The others, slow to grasp what he meant, soon caught on and voiced their concerns.
“Isn’t that commission a bit……dangerous?”
“Exactly. We’ve been holding off on it precisely for that reason. Who knows what jackals might catch wind of it and come prowling.”
“And the other ronin gang that’s taken the job is……those bastards.”
At the mention of “those bastards,” hostility kindled in the ronins’ eyes.
The ronins of Hangzhou were all fools and trash, true enough, but they maintained certain lines even in their treachery.
Yet “those bastards” had long since crossed every boundary.
The ronins of Hangzhou were simply waiting for the least pretext to make their move.
“Hmm. My disciple seemed confident enough about it.”
“……What?”
“From what I could see, there’s no real problem. He wouldn’t know about our history with them, so there’s nothing for him to worry about there. Besides, he’s reached Second Rate Middle Tier—they won’t dare treat him carelessly.”
“Second Rate Middle Tier?!”
“Whoever his master is, isn’t he a remarkable student?”
Baek Do-gwang wore a pleased smile.
* * *
Im Gang cursed Baek Do-gwang under his breath.
‘Damn it…… Like master, like disciple. He handed me a rotten commission.’
The way he’d heard it at the inn—
There were some undesirable elements involved, but aside from that, it was supposedly straightforward work that would be finished quickly, with decent pay to boot.
It was true enough. The undesirable element was a notoriously vicious ronin gang in Hangzhou, and excepting the part about searching the cliff below, it was all manageable.
Click.
…….
A small stone tumbled down from where his foot had landed.
A faint “tap” echoed back only after a considerable time had passed.
Indeed.
This was a cliff where the opportunities and fortunes of a medieval martial arts world converged.

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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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