Chapter 36 : “Young Master Suits You Well”

Chapter 36: “Young Master Suits You Well”Four men sat around a dining table, sharing dumplings.

Master of Flower Moon Pavilion, Han Seong-chun, lamented all the hardships he had endured on his journey here.

From the sorrow of losing his son, to the fear he felt when he sought out the Deathshroud, to nearly being robbed of all his money by bandits on his way to Yichang.

“You’ve gone through a lot.”

Jin Seong-un could understand Han Seong-chun’s suffering, at least a little.

While he couldn’t possibly grasp the pain of a father losing his son, he understood better than anyone the hardships faced by those who journeyed far without knowing martial arts.

As Han Seong-chun nodded at Jin Seong-un’s words of comfort, he suddenly placed a heavy coin pouch on the table.

Jin Seong-un asked,

“What is this?”

“This is my life’s savings. I want to repay the benefactors who avenged my son.”

Jin Seong-un and Seo Yu-gyeom exchanged glances.

They both worked at the inn. They could imagine just how hard Han Seong-chun must have worked and endured over a lifetime to gather that money.

“We can’t accept this.”

“Please, take it. Only then will I find some peace of mind. Maybe then, when I die, I’ll be able to face my son.”

The Food Butcher had killed his son. Han likely wanted to contribute, even if just a little, as a father.

Even so, Jin Seong-un couldn’t accept the money.

“I will accept the sentiment. That alone is more than enough. It wasn’t something I did out of chivalry to begin with…”

“Then how about this instead?”

Seo Yu-gyeom abruptly cut in.

He then made a proposal to Han Seong-chun.

“If you really don’t mind about the money, why not work here at Seong-un Inn as a chef?”

Jin Seong-un turned to look at Seo Yu-gyeom.

Seo Yu-gyeom shrugged and sent him a sound transmission.

—We’ve got to let the man do something. It’ll ease his heart.

—Isn’t Young Master Seo just looking for a break?

There was no reply.

Jin Seong-un looked at Seo Yu-gyeom with suspicion, but his words weren’t wrong. Han Seong-chun’s expression did seem to brighten a little.

“Would that really be alright? Cooking is something I’ve done my whole life, so I’m confident, but…”

Han Seong-chun looked around the inn. It wasn’t a large place, and he wondered whether it even needed two chefs.

He was both a father and a merchant. He knew better than most how adding more staff could strain finances.

Of course, he had no way of knowing just how wealthy Seong-un Inn actually was.

Jin Seong-un spoke to Han Seong-chun.

“To be honest, our Chef Seo doesn’t have that much experience. If you could guide him while working together, I would actually be the one grateful… Would that be alright with you?”

Chefs were known for their pride. According to Han Seong-chun, Flower Moon Pavilion was a grand tavern, and he was a seasoned chef.

Working in a small inn like this would mean swallowing his pride.

But contrary to Jin Seong-un’s concern, Han Seong-chun said,

“What does the place matter to a chef? What matters is having people who’ll eat my food.”

His words moved everyone who heard them. In any field, those who are sincere about their work always earn respect.

Jin Seong-un and Seo Yu-gyeom both gave a thumbs-up as if they had planned it.

And just like that, Han Seong-chun became the second chef of Seong-un Inn.

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That night, after business hours.

Seo Yu-gyeom realized there was a lot to learn from Han Seong-chun.

Not just about cooking, but also how to organize kitchen tools, how to handle rush orders, and more.

Today, too, Seong-un Inn was bustling with guests.

Normally, the kitchen would have been in chaos, but things ran smoothly.

All thanks to Han Seong-chun. As Seo Yu-gyeom left for the night, he bowed with a clasped-hands greeting.

“I’ve learned a lot.”

“And so have I.”

Han Seong-chun smiled and nodded. Working alongside a young chef like Seo Yu-gyeom reminded him of his son. It hurt, but it also brought him joy.

And so, Han Seong-chun and Seo Yu-gyeom left the inn.

Left behind were Jin Seong-un and Seomun Ak.

After checking the inn one last time, Jin Seong-un headed toward the back door but glanced at Seomun Ak.

Seomun Ak sat in the inn like it was only natural, silently staring at a bottle of liquor.

Lately, once business closed, he would drink alone and then pass out at the table.

Each night, he must’ve been consumed by thoughts. Remembering his fight with the Food Butcher, or perhaps the moment he was struck by his father in front of everyone.

Jin Seong-un watched Seomun Ak for a while.

No words of comfort came to mind. He wasn’t even sure he had the right to comfort him.

“Don’t drink too much.”

Jin Seong-un said flatly.

Seomun Ak only nodded once.

Early morning.

As usual, when Jin Seong-un came down to the inn, he found Seomun Ak already cleaning.

It had become a familiar sight.

No matter how early he arrived, Seomun Ak was already tidying up. Naturally, he had cleared all traces of the previous night’s drinking.

“You’re here.”

Seomun Ak greeted Jin Seong-un briefly, then returned to his cleaning.

Jin Seong-un stood there for a moment, watching him.

The night before, he had visited the Martial Gods for the first time in a while.

They talked about the Food Butcher, and about martial arts. At one point, Seomun Ak’s name came up, and the Merchant King had offered this advice:

—That reckless fool from the Seomun Clan is now your inn’s waiter, is he not? Managing your people is one of a merchant’s core virtues.

The Merchant King told Jin Seong-un to either ease Seomun Ak’s heart or kick him out.

An unhappy worker would only spread that energy to the customers.

He hadn’t provided any tips on how to go about it, though.

Jin Seong-un stared at Seomun Ak in silence.

Seomun Ak flinched, sensing the gaze.

After a moment of hesitation, Jin Seong-un went into the kitchen. Some clanging sounds followed, and soon he came back out holding a bowl.

He offered it to Seomun Ak.

“For your hangover.”

“…”

Seomun Ak stared at the bowl in disbelief.

It was filled with a broth that looked like noodle soup. The aroma was good, and the surface had just the right amount of oil.

“A martial artist needs hangover soup?”

“…Guess not.”

Martial artists didn’t get hangovers bad enough to need curing. Jin Seong-un, dejected, turned around to take the bowl back.

Then Seomun Ak, bothered by something, spoke.

“I’ll eat it.”

“Oh?”

Jin Seong-un brought the bowl back.

Seomun Ak cautiously sipped the broth. Hangover or not, a warm soup in the morning wasn’t a bad thing.

The broth passed over his tongue and down his throat—

Then he spat it out with a bizarre noise.

“Kuack!”

Seomun Ak stared at Jin Seong-un with a horrified look.

Jin Seong-un looked visibly dispirited.

“…Is it poisoned?”

“It’s pure skill.”

“You’re insane.”

Now he understood why that no-name chef Seo Yu-gyeom had so much authority. This inn would go under without a real chef.

“It was that bad? So bad you had to spit it out?”

Jin Seong-un looked at the spilled broth on the floor.

Seomun Ak silently fetched a rag, wiped it up, and carefully held it with just his index finger and thumb to avoid touching the broth.

No words could have been clearer.

“Chef Seo ate it just fine back then…”

That was the main reason Jin Seong-un had accepted Seo Yu-gyeom. He had come to the inn late at night and finished the entire bowl of Jin’s noodles.

He did say it tasted bad—but he ate it all the same. That had been touching enough.

Then, Seo Yu-gyeom’s voice came from behind.

“I was trained to endure torture, you know.”

“……”

Early in the morning, Seo Yu-gyeom stabbed Jin Seong-un in the chest with his words, as calmly as ever, and entered the kitchen to start preparing for the day.

Soon, Han Seong-chun also arrived and assisted Seo Yu-gyeom.

With more people around, the inn felt a bit more lively.

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Jin Seong-un and Seomun Ak leaned against the inn wall, side by side, gazing off into the distance.

It was still before business hours.

As always, they were serving breakfast to the local children with nowhere else to go.

But today, a few of the usual kids were missing. And the ones who were eating looked inexplicably gloomy.

Jin Seong-un and Seomun Ak exchanged glances.

Judging by the atmosphere, the missing children hadn’t left for good reasons.

Seomun Ak approached the children mid-meal and asked,

“Where’s Gaesam’s gang?”

Even the kids had their own groups.

The ones missing were a group of six led by Gaesam.

The children flinched.

“We don’t know either. They suddenly disappeared. We looked for them for a long time but couldn’t find them, so we came back.”

“Came back? From where?”

The children explained.

They were young, and all talking at once, making it hard to understand, but Seomun Ak exercised his life’s greatest patience and focus.

Piecing together their jumbled stories, this is what he gathered:

At Dangyang Lake (當陽湖), located in Dangyang, a festival had recently begun.

There were rumors that they needed more hands to prepare for the event, and anyone who showed up would be given work—there were even wagons provided.

Children without families had headed there. And at Dangyang Lake, Gaesam’s gang suddenly vanished.

“A certain man was suspicious. He kept asking us if we wanted to work too.”

Then Jin Seong-un, who had been silently listening, stepped forward.

“Sounds like he was a shady fellow, huh?”

Jin Seong-un understood just how precious a job could be for children with no family or place to go.

For them to refuse that offer meant that even the kids had found the man to be deeply unsettling.

“Yes, he was strange.”

The children began to share their testimonies one by one.

First off, his appearance was terrifying. They said he had several scars on his face.

And regardless of gender, he kept touching the children inappropriately. At that, Seomun Ak cursed under his breath.

Most damning of all, one child had seen him drag a festival worker into an alley and beat them severely.

Jin Seong-un and Seomun Ak said at the same time:

“Unorthodox faction martial artist.”

“He’s one of the unorthodox bastards.”

The missing kids were likely connected to that man or his group.

“No matter how much we looked, we couldn’t find Gaesam’s gang. We even reported it to the authorities, but they wouldn’t take it seriously.”

Jin Seong-un nodded.

The officials might’ve ignored them because they were just children, or worse, the officials might’ve been connected to the local unorthodox faction.

This was no light matter.

Jin Seong-un knew—he himself had wandered the streets as a child.

Some unorthodox bastards took children with no ties and exploited them.

The “nicer” ones simply used them for begging, forced them to do farm work, or loaded them onto boats.

Naturally, they were never paid properly. It was outright abduction and enslavement.

Worse yet, some depraved ones would cut off the child’s arms or legs before sending them out to beg.

It was a vile act, exploiting pity to increase begging profits.

Some children with good looks were even sold to rich households or people with perverse tastes.

“Where exactly is this place?”

Jin Seong-un asked the children for a precise location.

If he hadn’t known, it would be one thing—but now that he did, he couldn’t ignore it. They were, after all, kids who shared meals with him every morning.

Seomun Ak looked at Jin Seong-un as he carefully listened to the children’s explanations and then nodded.

This was Jin Seong-un, the one who could even beat down First Rate Martial Artists. If he went to Dangyang, it wouldn’t matter who was there—they’d be dealt with swiftly.

Soon after, Jin Seong-un strapped on the Black High Sword and looked at Seomun Ak, who stood there blankly.

“Will you help?”

“Me?”

Seomun Ak pointed to himself in shock, and Jin Seong-un nodded as if it were obvious.

Seomun Ak wondered if he’d only be a burden rather than help. His confidence had hit rock bottom lately, making that thought even stronger.

“Would I even be any help?”

“There is something only Young Master can do.”

“There is?”

“There is.”

Jin Seong-un was more firm than ever.

Seomun Ak scratched his head and muttered,

“Then who’ll do the waiter’s job?”

“What are you worrying for when I’m right here?”

The voice came from Han Seong-chun, the former master of Flower Moon Pavilion and current chef of Seong-un Inn. He had run a far larger tavern and inn for decades.

Jin Seong-un nodded and gazed at Seomun Ak again. His eyes were resolute.

Normally, Seomun Ak would’ve refused without a second thought. The delinquent Seomun Ak had no interest in helping others.

But perhaps because he knew Jin Seong-un’s strength, or maybe because he’d grown fond of the children who bowed their heads in thanks every morning after eating—he couldn’t bring himself to say no.

“…Alright, let’s go.”

As if he had expected it, Jin Seong-un nodded. The two of them left Seong-un Inn together.

Dangyang Lake wasn’t far.

Jin Seong-un and Seomun Ak stood side by side, staring out at the wide expanse of the lake.

There was a sense of uncertainty. The only leads they had were a few words from the children.

“What now?”

Seomun Ak asked.

Jin Seong-un, as calm as ever, looked out over the lake and replied,

“I don’t know.”

“…So you came without a plan?”

“I thought Young Master Seomun might figure it out. You know more about the martial world than I do.”

“No, I don’t…”

Seomun Ak rubbed his forehead. It’s not like he was some Murim Alliance tracker.

Then Jin Seong-un spoke again.

“If Young Master Seomun were an unorthodox martial artist, one of those wretches who kidnapped the kids—what would you do?”

“I’m from the orthodox sects.”

“I said ‘if.’”

Seomun Ak let out a deep sigh.

Then he closed his eyes and imagined.

I’m one of the unorthodox. I’m a scumbag. I’m utterly vile…

He flinched.

The image came to him all too easily.

But it wasn’t surprising. Judging by his past behavior, Seomun Ak wasn’t much different from a shameless, rogue martial artist.

Only then did Seomun Ak understand.

What Jin Seong-un meant by “something only Young Master can do.”

Seomun Ak widened his eyes and looked at Jin Seong-un. Jin gave him a wide grin and nodded once.

“Young Master Seomun is the perfect man for this.”

“……”

Seomun Ak cried inside.

What made it worse was that he could already predict how the unorthodox bastards would move.

“…They’re probably over there.”

Seomun Ak pointed to a tall, extravagant pavilion in the distance.

It was the grandest and most luxurious tavern in all of Dangyang.