An inn where, it was said, every sort of humanity in Hebei gathered.
The Heavenly Fragrance Pavilion.
On any ordinary day, I would have been sitting in a corner of the counter swatting flies, or carrying watered-down wine and pocketing copper coins.
The grudges and debts of the martial world?
Revenge?
Feuds between sects?
None of it was any of a waiter's business.
When the blades came out, you hid under a table. When a corpse turned up, you covered it with a straw mat and reported it to law enforcement.
That was rule number one for survival in this line of work.
But today, the weather was far too good.
Sunlight that had pierced through the ceiling settled at a slant upon the dusty tables.
As I watched that drowsy, transparent light, a strange thought suddenly came to me.
Carrying the same noodles every day.
Hearing the same curses.
Counting the same coins. This whole damn routine...
Was dreadfully boring.
Was it that boredom that drove me mad?
CHING—!
A sharp, shattering sound sliced through the din of the inn in a single stroke.
“So it was you. The one who killed my Junior Brother!”
The center of the inn.
A young man of the Mount Hua Sect in a blue Taoist robe had drawn his sword.
Where the tip of his sword pointed sat a man in an ink-black martial arts uniform.
Even at a glance, the man in the ink-black martial arts uniform was an expert.
His breathing was quiet, and his seated posture had no openings.
Even the energy flowing around him was cold and pristine.
He had the kind of look that made it seem not particularly strange if he had killed a man without a sound or a whisper.
The Mount Hua youth's eyes were bloodshot.
“It was the forest behind the Heavenly Fragrance Pavilion. My Junior Brother was lying dead with his neck broken! The only one who walked out of that forest was you!”
The customers inside the inn drained away like an ebbing tide.
As expected of martial world folk.
They loved watching other people's fights, but not so much that they'd stake their own lives on it.
‘He killed his Junior Brother?’
A grudge of that degree was no simple squabble.
And a martial artist of the Mount Hua Sect, no less.
If I got tangled up in this, I'd obviously die a dog's death.
My head was warning me as much, but perhaps it was because of the boredom that had nearly driven me mad.
Without realizing it, my eyes were looking at something else.
The Mount Hua youth's shoes.
They were caked with mud and wet fallen leaves, as if he'd come running through the forest.
In contrast, the shoes of the man in the ink-black martial arts uniform were...
‘Clean.’
There might have been road dust on them, but there was none of the forest's damp or mud.
No wet fallen leaves, and no bamboo leaves stuck to them either.
He hadn't gone into the forest and come back out.
He'd most likely just come along the main road near the forest entrance.
“Do you have proof?”
The man in the ink-black martial arts uniform murmured in a low voice.
There was no emotion in his voice.
That indifference seemed to stoke the Mount Hua youth's anger even more.
“The proof is that you came through that forest! You're nothing but a member of the unorthodox sects, and you dare lay a hand on a disciple of Mount Hua?”
Dark blue sword qi formed on the youth's sword.
It was the Plum Blossom Sword Art, which I had seen once before.
If that was unleashed, it was self-evident that this inn would become a sea of blood.
The tables would be smashed.
The wine jars would break.
And if I was unlucky, I might get caught up in it too.
The man in the ink-black martial arts uniform likewise set down his teacup and moved his fingers to the hilt of his blade.
Someone was going to die.
Someone was absolutely going to die.
I tossed the dry rag onto the table with a soft thump.
My heart was pounding like mad.
My legs were trembling.
And yet my feet were moving on their own.
Between the two experts.
Right into the middle of that razor-sharp killing intent.
“Excuse me.”
My voice cut into the silence of the inn.
The tip of the Mount Hua youth's sword whipped around toward me.
The cold steel stopped right in front of my Adam's apple.
“Move.”
The Mount Hua youth ground his teeth.
“You're just a waiter. Do you want to die?”
The killing intent prickled as if it would slice my skin.
My breath caught in my throat.
Even now, I should have said ‘I'm sorry’ and crawled away across the floor.
But I put on an air of composure and raised the corners of my mouth.
It was a very familiar business smile.
“Nobody wants to die.”
“What?”
“It's just that if a sword fight breaks out here, the repair bill for our shop is going to be quite steep.”
“......”
“According to what you said, Master, your Junior Brother passed away in the forest out back, yes?”
I pointed at the man in the ink-black martial arts uniform with my chin.
“That man isn't the culprit.”
The eyebrow of the man in the ink-black martial arts uniform twitched.
The Mount Hua youth snorted as if he couldn't believe it.
“What would you know to be spouting that? That bastard reeks of a murderer's aura!”
“I don't know anything about auras.”
I pointed at the feet of the man in the ink-black martial arts uniform.
“But I do know how to look at shoes. Look at your shoes, Master. You went into the forest and came back, so they're covered in mud, aren't they? But his shoes... aren't they a bit too nice and dry?”
The Mount Hua youth's gaze wavered and dropped to the feet of the man in the ink-black martial arts uniform.
For a moment he seemed to be at a loss for words and fell silent, but he soon began to rage again.
“Y-you think that proves anything? He could have shaken off the dirt with his inner arts!”
A stretch.
But logic didn't work on an agitated expert.
The youth's sword trembled again.
He looked ready to cut me down and lunge at that man at any moment.
Gulp. I swallowed dryly.
There was no turning back now.
There was only one card I could play.
“Then let's do this.”
I looked both men straight in the eye.
“Let's look at the body.”
“......What?”
“I'll go look at the body. Then we'll know who the culprit is, and whether that man really is the culprit.”
The Mount Hua youth's eyes narrowed.
“Who do you think you are to go look at the body? You're not even a constable of the law enforcement.”
“If you report it to law enforcement, it'll take half a day for the constables to get here. In the meantime, the real culprit will run off far away. I'm not a constable, but......”
I grinned.
Cold sweat ran down my spine.
“I've become a master at catching guys who run off without paying for their meals. Would a corpse be any different?”
A suffocating silence passed.
The man in the ink-black martial arts uniform stared at me steadily.
For the first time, interest flickered in his dry, flat eyes.
This was insanity.
A guy who'd only ever sold noodles, saying he'd go to a murder scene.
But my whole body, which had been steeped in boredom, responded, and the sunlight outside the window was far too dazzling today.
And so I ended up putting my life down as collateral and placing my stake on this dangerous gambling table.
Amid the taut killing intent of the two experts, I turned my head toward the kitchen.
I saw the owner of the inn, Old Man Wang, glaring fiercely with a ladle in hand.
“Elder Proprietor. I need to step out for a moment.”
“And the shop?”
“With the mood this ugly, the customers are all about to run off anyway, aren't they?”
Old Man Wang looked around the deserted inn and heaved a sigh.
Then he fumbled about in his apron pocket and pulled something out.
“Take it.”
Something came flying through the air.
A candied sweet soaked in honey.
A Gongmyeong Sweet.
“Your sugar runs low when you rack your brains. Chew on one while you're at it.”
Old Man Wang pointed at my head with his ladle.
“And don't you come back as a ghost!”
The words, tossed out as if he didn't care, strangely made my throat burn.
Old Man Wang was used to this sort of thing.
The blade-wielders of the martial world smashing up the inn.
Clearing away corpses.
Waiters being replaced.
He must have reckoned my chances of coming back alive and coming back dead at about half and half.
What a truly thoughtful man.
“I'll be off.”
I put the candy in my mouth.
As the sweet, sticky taste wrapped around my tongue, a little strength returned to my trembling legs.
***
Outside the back door of the Heavenly Fragrance Pavilion was a dense bamboo forest.
Whenever the wind blew, the bamboo stalks rubbed their bodies against each other and made eerie sounds.
The one leading the way was the Mount Hua youth.
The man in the ink-black martial arts uniform followed behind him.
I walked between them, gauging the mood.
It was a strange procession.
Two men who might draw their blades at any moment, and a waiter with a candy in his mouth.
“This way.”
The Mount Hua youth stopped.
A spot quite deep in from the edge of the forest.
A shady place where little light reached.
There was a person there.
No. There was something that had been a person.
A man in a blue Taoist robe lay crammed between the bamboo roots.
His neck was bent at a bizarre angle, and the dirt was already soaked dark red.
“My Junior Brother, Cheong-un.”
The Mount Hua youth's voice trembled.
It was a voice mixed with anger and grief.
He spewed killing intent at the man in the ink-black martial arts uniform once again.
“As you can see, his neck is broken. And look at his chest. That's a wound cut by a blade!”
I cautiously approached the body.
I wasn't the squeamish type, but the stench of blood was nauseating no matter when I smelled it.
I squatted down and examined the body.
‘He hasn't been dead long.’
The blood hadn't clotted yet.
The blood that had flowed out was soaking into the dirt and forming a pool, but its surface was still wet.
Some faint body heat probably still remained as well.
The culprit surely hadn't gotten far.
He might even be watching us from somewhere in this forest.
A chill ran down my spine.
But catching the culprit wasn't what mattered right now.
What mattered was protecting my own life.
And clearing that man in the ink-black martial arts uniform of the false accusation.
I looked at the body's chest.
Just as the Mount Hua youth had said, there was a long wound running from the left shoulder to the right ribs.
The fabric had been torn away, and through it the gaping flesh was horribly exposed.
“It's definitely a cut wound.”
When I muttered that, the Mount Hua youth immediately shouted.
“That's right! He must have cut him with that brutishly huge blade of his!”
I turned my head and looked at the waist of the man in the ink-black martial arts uniform.
The weapon he carried wasn't a sword.
I hadn't gotten a good look at it inside the inn, but out here I could tell for certain.
It was a massive great blade whose scabbard was as wide as two palms put together.
I looked at the wound on the body again.
Then I spat out the candy stick I'd been holding in my mouth.
“No.”
I shook my head.
“Hero, that wound wasn't made by his blade.”
“What did you say?”
The Mount Hua youth's eyes shot up fiercely.
“You dare doubt the eyes of a disciple of Mount Hua?”
“Take another look at the wound on his chest.”
I pointed at the wound on the body.
Between the torn folds of the robe.
The exposed cross-section of the wound was so smooth it gave me goosebumps.
“The wound is too narrow. It's thin and keen, as if a single sheet of paper had passed through. There's no sign of the flesh being crushed or the bones being shattered either.”
I rose from my spot and approached the man in the ink-black martial arts uniform.
The man, as big as a mountain, looked down at me expressionlessly.
“I'm sorry, but could you show me that blade?”
The man silently unfastened the blade at his waist.
Shiiing.
With a heavy sound, the great blade slid out of its scabbard.
A steely blue gleam ran along the blade.
The edge alone was thicker than my thumb, and it looked to weigh a good sack of rice.
“As you can see.”
I pointed back and forth between that enormous blade and the wound on the body.
“This great blade isn't a weapon for slicing. It's a weapon for hacking down, smashing, and crushing.”
The Mount Hua youth's pupils wavered.
“If your Junior Brother had been cut with this blade, the wound wouldn't be this smooth. His ribs would have been ground to powder, and the flesh around the wound would have been mashed like rice cake.”
The Mount Hua youth couldn't refute it.
He was a martial artist too.
He simply hadn't seen it, blinded by rage, but after hearing my explanation and looking again, he could sense that something about the wound was off.
“That wound...... was made by a very thin, light, keen edge.”
I spoke slowly.
“Like a flexible sword, for example, or a very well-honed ring blade.”
I examined the body's neck again.
“And the broken neck is strange too.”
“What's strange about it?”
“People who use blades usually try to finish their opponent by cutting them. They don't bother setting the blade aside and snapping a neck by hand.”
I closely examined the body's shoulders and the nape of its neck.
Faint bruises that looked like finger marks.
But they weren't marks made by ordinary grip strength alone.
It was as if someone had seized the neck and then twisted it around in one go.
“This is just like......”
I stopped talking.
And I looked into the forest.
Toward a deeper, darker place.
“Either the culprit was trying to hide his martial arts.”
The wind stopped.
The bamboo forest became frighteningly still.
“Or he's the kind of guy who never needed a weapon in the first place, wouldn't you say?”
A heavy silence descended.
The anger faded from the Mount Hua youth's face, and bewilderment filled its place.
The man in the ink-black martial arts uniform finally spoke up.
“That makes sense.”
The look in his eyes had changed.
They were not the eyes of someone looking at a mere waiter who carried noodles.
“Waiter.”
The man asked in a low voice.
“Can you also tell where the one who killed this man went?”