The Reincarnated Hunter Sweeps Up All Fortunes - Chapter 36

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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 36
36
The man from Hao Moon sat speechless for a moment before speaking.
“My apologies. This is not something I can handle at my level. Please wait a moment.”
He rose, bowed deeply, and hurried away. Shortly after—
a woman with her face veiled in silk appeared.
It was the same woman who had shown herself when the Heukhaja was presented.
‘Somewhere between Second Tier and First Tier.’
Im Gang succeeded in gauging the woman’s level with his Gi Gam. Before, it had been difficult to sense such things, but now he felt it clearly.
The same went for those hidden in the shadows.
Barely scraping by at First Tier.
But barely or not, First Tier was First Tier.
Seven of them—even if only at the early stages of First Tier, they were not to be dismissed.
‘The world looks different once you reach First Tier.’
Before, he could barely detect their presence; now he could discern their number and position.
That’s life—stranger things have happened.
“I truly appreciate your visit.”
“Thank you.”
After exchanging the stiff pleasantries, the woman sat. Soon she looked at the items Im Gang had laid on the table and let out a small sigh.
She had meant to reproach the incompetence of her disciples, but upon examination, she found she had no choice but to handle it herself.
And there were not just one or two items.
The small things didn’t matter much, but the Byogyeong Sinbop and Yangon Guhoè Gyeol were martial arts that even Hao Moon found difficult to process easily.
“Do you truly wish to dispose of these through Hao Moon?”
Im Gang nodded.
“Hao Moon may also purchase them if you prefer.”
At his irresponsible answer, the woman considered for a moment before speaking.
“Hao Moon will purchase them.”
She paused here before asking:
“But do you know what the Byogyeong Sinbop and Yangon Guhoè Gyeol are before disposing of them?”
“Yes, I know. It’s just that they don’t align with the martial arts I’ve learned, so I wish to dispose of them.”
…They don’t align?
The woman didn’t understand what this man was talking about—or rather, she struggled to comprehend it. It seemed to mean he had actually trained in these arts.
Once that thought settled, the woman was fully convinced.
“…I’ll need time to verify the authenticity of the Secret Manuals. Even one takes quite long, and you have more than five of them, so it will take at least a month or more. Are you still all right with that?”
“That’s fine.”
“How will you receive the payment?”
“Once authenticity is confirmed, I’ll return to collect it then.”
“And the same for the other items?”
“Yes.”
Im Gang nodded and spoke carefully.
“Actually, I have one more request.”
The woman hesitated. She wondered what nonsense he would spout this time.
“What might that request be?”
“Does Hao Moon happen to have any commissions available?”
…….
The woman found herself staring at Im Gang.
She had expected nonsense, but not this kind of nonsense. Yet it wasn’t an unreasonable question. Hao Moon did occasionally extend “requests” to outsiders.
It was essentially the same as taking on commissions.
The only difference was that “requests” weren’t given to just anyone.
“Nothing urgent, but there’s been an issue lately that left the broker with no work.”
Im Gang scratched the back of his head with an embarrassed expression.
To the woman, this was absurd. He was offering Secret Manuals of Peak-level martial arts, selling the Jeongmyeong Ju, and now asking if there was work available.
She held back a sigh and spoke.
“…I’ll contact you soon.”
“Thank you.”
Somewhat embarrassed, Im Gang quickly left and made his way back through the streets, habitually using his Map and Treasure Search Skill to cut across the marketplace.
As he walked, several blue dots appeared on the map.
‘Huh?’
Im Gang changed direction as if bewitched by a fox spirit.
* * *
Im Gang spent his days in peace. Barricaded at home, he savored freedom, tranquility, and happiness. There was little point venturing out anyway—no work awaited him.
A thorough rest while reflecting on life seemed far from unpleasant.
Not that he spent all his time idling.
He examined and tested his newly acquired skills.
When he drew his sword and swung it in great arcs, the stone walls and wooden beams split cleanly.
Deploying the Seonpung Gak, he shattered trees.
With his newly learned Amgi Sool, he hurled the Eun Ryeon Bi, and the Returning Valley Chime rang out.
“Let a man sleep! Sleep!”
“Damn it! Which bastard makes such a racket in the dead of night?!”
There were minor incidents, but sincere apologies made at the neighbors’ doors smoothed things over gracefully. Living in harmony with such forbearing people, he passed each day without serious trouble.
“Hmm. No major problems, but there’s a minor one.”
To be honest, all this practice left him uncertain whether he was truly making progress.
What could one expect from mere drudgery?
There was a reason Im Gang favored practical application over theory. Nothing proved as reliable as real combat. His current-life master had taught him only through practice.
‘I’m a man of action, after all.’
That’s why he’d asked the Hao Moon about commissions—but word never came.
They hadn’t even said when they’d contact him, so he understood.
Still, his limbs had begun to itch for action.
He visited Baek Do Gwang as well.
The inn that served as the Nanginhoè hideout stood empty. Wondering if they’d fallen to the Explosive Demon, he made discreet inquiries and learned they’d taken a commission and traveled abroad.
Relief that he lived, certainly—but the man proved utterly useless. Shouldn’t a senior care for his disciples, worry about them?
‘No wonder I call him Baek instead.’
Then one day, someone came to his door.
Knock, knock, knock.
At the measured rapping, he opened the door to find four martial practitioners.
Their clothing was uniform and clean.
They were not Wanderers.
The aura they emanated lacked the ragged quality of Wanderers.
In Hangzhou, there was only one group of this sort.
An Evil Sect.
Im Gang’s hand had already moved to his sword hilt.
A habit ingrained across two lifetimes.
The practitioners, seeing his reaction, swiftly lowered their posture.
They clasped their fists in salute and spoke with courteous deference.
“We come with no intent to give offense. Please, lower your blade.”
Their tone was respectful.
Had they been sent from an Evil Sect sect, they would not speak this way.
Nor did they seem to be a Righteous Sect.
Something between right and wrong?
“What is it?”
“We come from the Ubo Moon.”
An Evil Sect that managed the postal stations of Hangzhou.
That was why he hadn’t sensed the Evil Sect quality—the postal stations.
Their cooperation with government authorities meant they bore less of an Evil Sect taint.
“The Ubo Moon would entrust a commission to you, the Shadowless Flying Sword.”
“…Shadowless Flying Sword?”
Im Gang blinked.
Who was the Shadowless Flying Sword?
“Yes. The great hero Im Gang, the Shadowless Flying Sword.”
Me?
Im Gang’s mind raced.
‘That epithet is attached to me?’
It seemed they’d coined it after witnessing his fight with the Explosive Demon—how he vanished and reappeared like a shadow through concealment and the Byogyeong Sinbop, thrusting with the Bokma Hyeolhyeol Geom.
‘That’s rather fine, isn’t it?’
Compared to his epithet “Skilled Phantom,” this was simply striking. Before he could help it, his lips quirked upward. He tried to suppress it, but failed.
Sensing the Ubo Moon practitioners’ gaze, he covered his mouth with his palm and gave a small cough.
“Ahem. What is the nature of this commission?”
……
One of the practitioners drew something from his robe and presented it with reverence.
It was a sealed scroll, crafted from fine silk.
“You can open it once we’ve left.”
“Or better yet, have a…….”
He’d meant to tell them to have a drink while he decided whether to take the commission, but the martial artists had already turned and departed.
Scratching his head, he headed inside. Sitting at the table, he broke the seal on the silk scroll and unfurled it. A message was written there in careful characters.
Starting with the first line.
—When the Winter Solstice winds cut sharp and bitter, and among the countless stars hanging over Hangzhou, the radiant light of the great master Swordless Sword shines upon the great earth of Gangnam, causing all things to humbly bow their heads…….
“Ugh.”
Im Gang shut his eyes without meaning to. His stomach turned. Goosebumps erupted across his skin. And the purple prose didn’t end there.
Forcing his eyes open to survey the rest, he found more than ten lines crammed densely across the page.
And besides—he wasn’t even in Gangnam.
The effort to twist every existing word and conjure ones that didn’t was admirable, certainly…….
‘Sometimes even effort betrays you.’
He pressed his fist against his chest, steadying the roiling in his gut.
Skimming through the rest, the actual commission details were at the bottom.
‘Why on earth did those idiots waste space with all that up there?’
Regardless.
He read the commission details.
A single commission: the task was to serve as a bodyguard; the duration was fifteen day-nights.
They were asking him to protect someone for a fortnight.
‘The timeframe is a bit odd.’
Short if you looked at it one way, long if you looked at it another.
Bodyguard commissions typically ran anywhere from three to ten days, or sometimes over a month if lengthy.
Fifteen days sat awkwardly in between. He didn’t know who he’d be guarding either. But that wasn’t something to worry about yet. Only the location and time were listed.
They’d tell him the rest when they met.
He checked the compensation.
For fifteen days of protection, they’d pay one hundred silver coins.
And.
They would let him select one martial manual from the Ubo Moon’s secret archive and study it.
“…….”
Im Gang read the scroll again. A hundred silver coins—he had no idea what a First Tier Wanderer typically earned. But choose one martial manual from the sect’s secret archive and learn it?
Opening the martial sect’s secret archive to an outsider?
‘Hmm…… the compensation is too good.’
The Wanderer’s Tenth Principle.
The better the pay, the harder the commission.
In other words.
This commission was terrifyingly dangerous. The better the reward, the proportionally higher the risk climbed.
Any Wanderer worth their salt knew this axiom.
A hundred silver coins and one martial manual.
At this rate, the odds of death were quite high.
“Well then.”
Im Gang rolled up the scroll and set it on the table.
Somehow, that made him want it all the more.
* * *
Time passed quickly. The appointed day arrived.
Im Gang unfolded his crossed legs and stood, loosening his body. His stiff joints crackled—Crack-crack—as bones and muscle released their tension.
He must have been doing Ungi Josik for too long.
Looking up at the sky, the sun hung high at its zenith.
They’d said to come before sunset, so he had plenty of time.
‘I’ll grab a bowl of noodles and take my time getting there.’
The kind with meat toppings.
And.
“Baek Cheon?”
“Im Gang—it’s been a while.”
“…… and Baek Do Gwang?”
“Still alive, I see, disciple.”
He’d run into Baek Cheon and Baek Do Gwang.

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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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