Chapter 37 : Black Spider

Chapter 37: Black SpiderSeomun Ak wanted to deny it, but the movements of the Unorthodox Path were clear to him.

Perhaps it was because he often frequented brothels and taverns, building connections with men of the Unorthodox Path. Or perhaps it was simply because Seomun Ak’s temperament suited them better.

Jin Seong-un looked at the tavern Seomun Ak pointed out. At a glance, it was clear this was the largest, most extravagant, and most expensive tavern in all of Dangyang.

“Why do you think it’s there?”

“Think about it. At this time of day, what do most martial artists usually do?”

Jin Seong-un raised his head and looked at the sky.

It was bright daylight.

“They’d probably be training.”

Even Baek Sang and Baek Seol, when business was slow, would sneak out to the backyard for practice.

For a martial artist, training was everything outside of eating, sleeping, and relieving oneself.

At Jin Seong-un’s reply, Seomun Ak smirked knowingly, as if the other man knew nothing.

“No, no. That’s for ordinary martial artists. These Unorthodox bastards are different. If they were the type to train diligently, they’d have already joined a bigger Black Path force and strutted about with pride. But men who kidnap children to sell them? They don’t train. And once they learn a little martial arts, they’re so arrogant that they’d never be caught drinking in a cheap tavern.”

“Ohhh.”

Jin Seong-un raised his thumb in genuine admiration. As expected, Seomun Ak was more fitting for the Black Path than the Orthodox Sect.

Seomun Ak, caught between pride and discomfort at the compliment, quickly walked ahead and said,

“I’ll say it again. I am a martial artist of the Righteous Sect.”

“Of course you are. A pity, really.”

“What? What do you mean by that—”

But Jin Seong-un was already gone.

When Seomun Ak turned his head, he saw him already cutting through the air in the distance. Seeing that insane lightness skill reminded him of the battle against the Food Butcher.

“…If he says jump, I jump.”

Seomun Ak was reminded once again that neither in martial arts, nor in reputation, nor in position could he measure up to Jin Seong-un.

Letting out a deep sigh, Seomun Ak followed in the same direction with his own lightness skill.

Jin Seong-un and Seomun Ak stood before the tavern.

Its name was Dangyanglu. A tavern that dared to use the name of the region itself—this meant it was the representative tavern of Dangyang.

It also meant that the strongest Black Path force was backing it. Otherwise, its signboard would have long been smashed, and the tavern master dragged through the alleys.

“It’s enormous.”

Looking up at the towering tavern even made his neck ache. Seomun Ak snorted at the sight.

Who would believe it? That this country bumpkin-looking fellow was the very master who displayed such terrifying swordsmanship against the Food Butcher.

For Seomun Ak, who had visited countless taverns and brothels, Dangyanglu was hardly worth marveling at.

“You should expand Seong-un Inn like this. With all the customers you get, it might work out well.”

“Hmm.”

At Seomun Ak’s suggestion, Jin Seong-un stared at Dangyanglu for a moment, then pictured Seong-un Inn rebuilt into a massive four-story pavilion.

His breathing grew a little heavier.

Huff—hot air blew from his nostrils.

“Good idea. I just need to save up more money.”

“No, no. If it were me, I’d do this: first, I’d visit the House of Seok. I’d demand money, saying it was the ransom for their son’s life.”

“…”

“After collecting from them, I’d head to my own Seomun Clan. ‘Hand over ransom money for your useless son’s life.’ Even though my father abandoned me, he’s a proud man. He’d pay a hefty sum. At least more than the House of Seok. Then where should I go next?”

“Sichuan Tang Clan?”

“No. To the Murim Alliance. I’d demand the bounty on the Food Butcher’s head. Ridiculous, isn’t it? They place a bounty but expect others to bring in the body. And finally, I’d go to the Tang Clan.”

Seomun Ak chuckled to himself as though even the fantasy delighted him.

“I’d tell them, ‘I’ve already collected from the House of Seok and Seomun Clan. Honestly, it was disappointing. For the sons of such so-called prestigious orthodox families, their lives were worth so little.’”

He then pictured the Poison King’s mocking smile. The Tang Clan never recognized the House of Seok or Seomun Clan as prestigious.

“I’d say, ‘I saved your only precious jewel, so what will you give me in return?’ How do you think they’d respond?”

“They’d probably give a huge sum.”


“No. They’d give me Tang So-yeon. I’d become the Tang Clan’s son-in-law. And after that, who would care about some four-story inn?”

“?”

Jin Seong-un looked at him like he was insane. Seomun Ak’s eyes gleamed dangerously.

Jin Seong-un smacked him across the back of the head.

“Urk!”

Rubbing his head, Seomun Ak glared. Jin Seong-un spoke calmly.

“You seemed about to fall into Qi Deviation.”

Seomun Ak clicked his tongue.

Couldn’t he even make a joke?

But suddenly, clarity returned to him. He realized that despite his recent gloom and depression, just being with this man had lifted his spirits.

“…Let’s go.”

The two stepped inside the tavern.

A waiter greeted them. Seeing that neither looked ordinary, he guided them to a fairly good seat.

Seomun Ak smoothly ordered wine and dishes.

Meanwhile, Jin Seong-un spread out his qi sense.

The tavern was packed with martial artists. As Seomun Ak said, they were all of the Unorthodox Path.

Most were third-rate or second-rate, with a few first-rate masters mixed in.

—Sure enough, Dangyang seems full of unorthodox martial artists. In Yichang, it was rare to see any.

At Jin Seong-un’s telepathy, Seomun Ak nodded.

Since Seomun Ak was unskilled at telepathy, he simply lowered his voice to reply.

“They say the Prosperity Association was wiped out. The Wudang Sect’s secular disciples filled the gap. What kind of fool would dare step in now?”

“I see.”

When the wine and dishes arrived, Jin Seong-un was startled. There was far too much food for just two people.

And unlike the simple fare at Seong-un Inn, every dish here was lavishly decorated. It was clear they would be incredibly expensive.

Seomun Ak calmly regarded the food, then pressed silver into the waiter’s hand. He even raised his voice so others would hear.

“Here, take this.”

“Thank you, Master!”

The waiter beamed.

But Seomun Ak wasn’t finished. He pulled out his money pouch and set it right on the table.

“I’ll have to visit the exchange soon and trade this for notes. Carrying all this silver is too much trouble.”

The eyes of the unorthodox men in the tavern immediately turned toward them.

Feeling their stares, Seomun Ak remarked,

“A porter would be useful right about now.”

No further words were needed. As they ate, the unorthodox martial artists whispered among themselves until one finally stood and approached.

Seomun Ak pretended to flinch in surprise as he looked up at the unorthodox martial artist. The man’s face was marred with several knife scars, giving him a vicious appearance.

“I didn’t mean to overhear, but did you say you needed a porter?”

“I do, but…”

Seomun Ak deliberately made his voice tremble.

The unorthodox martial artist smiled broadly, as if trying to prove he wasn’t a frightening man.

“I used to work as a waiter in my younger days. If you want, I could carry your load. Where are you headed?”

“Ah, no need. We don’t use grown men as porters. They eat too much…”

“Heh, why worry about that? I’ll buy my own food. Just tell me the destination.”

The man’s tone turned slightly forceful.

Seomun Ak lowered his voice as if left with no choice, speaking so only the man could hear.

“Xinjiang.”

“W-what!”

The man recoiled in shock, taking a step back.

Xinjiang was where the Heavenly Demon Cult resided.

Seomun Ak lifted his finger to his lips.

“I have business to discuss with merchants there. But this arrogant escort refuses to carry the load.”

He pointed at Jin Seong-un across from him. Naturally, the man’s eyes shifted to Jin Seong-un.

Jin Seong-un, after a moment’s thought, casually rested his hand on the Black High Sword and said,

“What are you looking at?”

The man jerked back sharply.

Xinjiang was Demonic Cult territory. If this was the escort hired for the journey, he had to be a true master.

The man hurriedly averted his gaze. Xinjiang was far too distant to follow anyway, and with such an escort guarding them, there was no chance to rob them midway.

After a moment of thought, the man spoke.

“I know a place where you can find porters.”

Just a ploy to earn a little money.

Jin Seong-un and Seomun Ak exchanged glances.

Seomun Ak then spoke.

“Oh, where is that?”

“Follow me. It’s a discreet place.”

“Let’s finish eating first.”

When Seomun Ak said that, the man nodded and returned to his seat.

After finishing their meal, the two followed the man along the street.

Suddenly, Seomun Ak asked him,

“What’s your name?”

“Black Sword.”

“Black Spider?”

“Black Sword.”

The man frowned, repeating firmly.

Seomun Ak stifled a laugh inside. “Black Sword,” really? Surely it was a self-made alias to sound impressive.

After walking for a while, Black Sword stopped before a pavilion at the mouth of an alley.

“Here. Go in and say you’re looking for a porter. Tell them I sent you, slip them a few coins, and they’ll let you in. Oh, no need to mention Xinjiang.”

He gestured for them to enter. Seomun Ak, staring at him, said,

“Come with us. How can we walk into a strange place alone?”

“With that escort at your side, what could you possibly fear?”

“Come with us, I said.”

When Seomun Ak pressed again, Jin Seong-un fixed his eyes on Black Sword.

Meeting his gaze, the man shuddered.

“…Fine, fine. Let’s go.”

Black Sword opened the door and stepped in, with the two following behind.

They walked down a long corridor to another door, guarded by a fierce-looking man.

But since Black Sword seemed to be connected to this place, they passed without question.

They had already gone through two doors, yet the corridor continued. Just from the layout alone, it was clear these people were up to illicit dealings.

At the end of the long corridor, another door appeared.

This time there was no guard, but on one wall hung a series of masks of various shapes.

“These are masks for those who don’t wish to reveal their identity. Not that you’ll need them if you’re heading to Xinjiang.”

“Still, they look fun. I’ll try one.”

Seomun Ak picked up a plain white mask.

Next to him, Jin Seong-un examined the masks before choosing a golden one.

With masks on, they entered.

Inside was much larger than it appeared from outside.

Masked figures sat sparsely in chairs, all facing the stage.

“Sit wherever you like.”

Black Sword said, and Jin Seong-un and Seomun Ak chose a corner where they could see the whole room.

On the stage, items were brought out one after another—antiques, swords, paintings, even elixirs.

Seomun Ak leaned toward Jin Seong-un.

“It’s a black market.”

The Black Market.

Run mostly by the Unorthodox Path, it sold items that couldn’t be traded openly.

Most were stolen goods, though occasionally genuine treasures appeared at low prices.

After they had been watching for a while, Black Sword returned and tapped Seomun Ak on the shoulder.

“The porters will be up soon.”

“Is that so.”

Seomun Ak’s reply carried a sudden chill.

Black Sword was flustered, but rich men were always fickle, so he let it go.

Soon, a child was led up onto the stage.

It was a face both Jin Seong-un and Seomun Ak recognized.