“Kuhhk… gak…”
The swordsman reflexively snatched up the dropped sword again.
“W-what…”
He then forced his head up. His eyes, which had been darting around in confusion, fixed on Seok Han-Bin—or rather, on a small something at Seok Han-Bin’s feet.
“A marten?”
The swordsman stared blankly at the white marten, then looked up to meet Seok Han-Bin’s gaze.
Under that accusing look, Seok Han-Bin couldn’t help but speak. Even though this man was a killer who had tried to take his life, he felt far too much sympathy for the desperation in those eyes to simply look away.
“…I— I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but it’s something I don’t understand either, okay?”
“…”
“Really.”
Only then did the swordsman’s eyes leave Seok Han-Bin and turn to the marten.
“Ugh…”
He still couldn’t accept that he’d been floored by such a tiny creature, but being a swordsman, he soon rose and composed himself.
“…A spirit beast?”
He gripped the sword until the blood drained from his hands. A chilling ferocity leaked from him—far more lethal than when he’d lunged at Seok Han-Bin earlier.
Feeling that cold murderous intent, Seok Han-Bin instinctively looked at the marten.
Kyu?
But the marten looked back at Seok Han-Bin with a carefree expression (honestly, it even looked kind of cute).
“C-can you handle that?”
Seok Han-Bin knew this was ridiculous. No matter how outlandish the situation, trying to talk to a marten made no sense. But something stranger happened immediately after.
K? (squeak?)
The marten gave Seok Han-Bin a look of incredulity, then snapped its head toward the swordsman. Then…
Tilt.
It stretched out one front paw and waved a single toe at the swordsman, as if to say, “Come on.”
Watching that, Seok Han-Bin muttered in disbelief.
“I should go visit a temple or a monastery or something…”
So I won’t keep seeing things… That’s the idea.
“Th-…”
For Seok Han-Bin it was absurd, but apparently not for the swordsman.
“How dare a low creature…”
Grind.
The swordsman ground his teeth so fiercely Seok Han-Bin was worried for him.
Even Seok Han-Bin, unfamiliar with the martial world, knew a swordsman must always remain calm. Still, he couldn’t call that reaction wrong.
‘How could a person stay calm being provoked by a marten?’
Especially someone trained in martial arts.
If Seok Han-Bin were in his shoes, wouldn’t he have gone mad wanting to turn that damned marten into a scarf?
While he felt human empathy for the swordsman rather than hostility, the swordsman’s foot stamped the ground.
“Haaaap!”
He didn’t rant like Seok Han-Bin imagined, but that short kiai clearly expressed his intent.
Whoosh!
This time the blade aimed at the marten, extending at a speed too fast for the eye to follow.
Such fierce sword qi that even Seok Han-Bin, ignorant of martial arts, shrank back…!
Slaang!
It missed to the side.
“…Kk.”
The swordsman’s eyes nearly popped out. Just as his blade tried to pierce the marten, that crazy creature—not with a front paw but a hind paw—lightly kicked the blade’s side and warped the blade’s path.
Twitch.
Then, as if mocking, it wiggled the paw that had touched the blade in midair.
“U-uaaah!”
The swordsman’s blade slashed the air many times again.
But not a single blade even grazed a hair of the marten… indeed, it didn’t touch a single fluffy hair.
The marten lifted a front paw and, with its claw, tapped the sword, knocking them all aside.
‘This is insane.’
Seok Han-Bin couldn’t even manage a hollow laugh anymore.
Maybe he’d already been cut down by the swordsman and this was a dying hallucination. He’d never heard that the dead dream, but that seemed more plausible than this being reality.
Kii.
Then a small cry escaped the marten’s mouth. If one were to interpret it, it sounded like, “You’re playing with me.”
The next moment it sprang off the ground and struck the swordsman’s face fiercely with a front paw.
Kraaang!
Hit by that deceptively small paw, the swordsman was flung like a shell and smashed through the wall.
“Kk… kkuaa…”
Pinned under the collapsed wall, the swordsman tried to stagger up groaning, but slumped back down.
“Th-this can’t be…”
Thud.
His head hit the ground.
Tch.
The marten, watching the scene, casually shook its front paw as if bored.
“…Oh.”
Seok Han-Bin looked from the unconscious swordsman to the clothed marten and simply laughed.
‘I don’t know anymore.’
There has to be some angle to interpret—how can one possibly interpret a man hired by Black Fish Clan being beaten up by a marten?
But it was just as absurd from the marten’s perspective—Baek Ah’s perspective.
Among the spirit beasts of the distant Southern Beast Palace, one of the foremost is White Lightning. Even several top-tier masters would tremble at his mere movement, let alone a spirit beast like the White Tiger that could kill by biting.
And yet some pathetic swordsman dared to rush at him.
Tseup.
Baek Ah shook his head.
Perhaps being harassed by inhuman things had worn down his dignity. Or maybe Chung Myung kept poking at his eyes with a finger, scolding, “Can’t you open your eyes nicely?” and harassing him until his outer ferocity faded.
Baek Ah sighed deeply, turned, and looked at Seok Han-Bin.
Kii! Kiiii! Kii!
Then, wagging her small front paw, she scolded Seok Han-Bin with a string of cries.
“…Why are you doing this to me?”
Just as Seok Han-Bin was about to despair at the absurdity of it all.
“Here?”
Two people jumped down from the wall.
“So you were here.”
“You deserve to be scolded.”
“Uh…”
Seeing the two sudden Taoists, Seok Han-Bin quietly set down the stick he was holding. He no longer had the energy to be surprised or flustered.
“As expected, Baek Ah finds people well… What the—what’s that?”
Tang Soso’s brows knit sharply when she spotted the swordsman lodged in the wall.
“Why did you beat someone up again! I told you not to cause trouble, Sago!”
Kiiii!
“Hey, look at her scolding! Are you going to tattle to sahyung about this?”
At the word sahyung, Baek Ah flinched and then began to feign indifference.
Seok Han-Bin smiled faintly as he watched.
‘Why don’t these people find it strange that a marten beat someone to death?’
He didn’t even fight fair; he shoved a person into a wall. Why did they treat it like nothing?
Was he going crazy, or had the world gone mad?
Seok Han-Bin just hoped this ridiculous dream would end soon.
“But why does this person… Huh? He’s holding a knife?”
“He’s a swordsman.”
“What? A swordsman, Sago?”
“Mm.”
Yu Yiseol nodded expressionlessly. Tang Soso frowned for a moment but didn’t ask why she thought so.
If Yu Yiseol said so, that was that—she could see far more than the others.
“Were you attacked by that man?”
Seok Han-Bin nodded without speaking.
“Hmm, really? Then it seems he is a swordsman—what should we do…?”
Tang Soso gazed at the man stuck in the wall, pondering, then muttered.
“Should we just kill him? He’s a swordsman. No, that’s a bit extreme. Maybe we should just sever the limbs’ meridians first?”
Seok Han-Bin began to tremble a little.
“What should we do, Sago? Should we just kill him?”
“No.”
“Ah… yeah, we shouldn’t kill someone so easily after all.”
“If you kill him like that, he won’t even realize he’s dead. It’s too easy. Tie him up and bring him. Give him to sajil.”
“Ah, that’ll work. But…”
Tang Soso glanced around and sighed softly.
“There’s nothing suitable to bind him with. Can’t be helped.”
Huh? Can’t be helped—then what will they…
Pook.
‘Hiiiiiiik!’
Seok Han-Bin’s eyes tripled in size.
Tang Soso suddenly pulled a needle as thick as a person’s forearm from her sleeve and plunged it into the fallen swordsman’s body.
“If I stick them here and here, he won’t be able to move…”
Pook. Pook. Pook.
“…”
“Hmm, just in case, should I put one more in?”
Puuuuuk.
Each time a needle was driven in, the unconscious man twitched in convulsions.
It was a mercy he was unconscious. If such needles were driven into a conscious person, Seok Han-Bin would be ready to recite even what color his twelfth great-grandfather’s underwear had been.
“Mm. That’s enough. Now then…”
Tang Soso turned sharply to Seok Han-Bin, smiled with innocent clarity, and spoke kindly.
“Would you possibly come with us for a bit?”
“…”
It truly was a clear smile. But Seok Han-Bin’s gaze was drawn to the gleaming large needle jutting from between her fingers.
“…Where should I go?”
“Good, you understand.”
First, I need to stay alive….
Kiiii!
“Good, you’re back, you marten brat!”
Boing!
The kicked marten bounced up into the air.
Baek Ah, who had swaggered in proudly, found herself involuntarily somersaulting through the air after Chung Myung discovered an empty liquor bottle.
“You stole a drink again? Really! What kind of damned animal keeps guzzling our liquor?!”
Kii! Kiiik!
“What are you squeaking about like you did something right? Dammit!”
Chung Myung kicked Baek Ah again as she charged.
Seok Han-Bin, watching Baek Ah spin through the air, wore a half-enlightened expression.
‘So…’
The evil sect loan sharks couldn’t catch him and hired a swordsman, that swordsman got knocked out by a marten, and that marten is now being flung around by those Taoists…
No, never mind. I don’t understand.
“What kind of marten learned to drink? This is insane, honestly.”
“You taught her, Chung Myung.”
“Me? When did I?”
“…Right. Let’s just say it’s not true.”
“Hey, where are you going! Don’t you dare run! I’ll peel your hide off!”
Chung Myung, still scolding at Baek Ah as she bolted out the door without looking back, turned with a growl.
“What’s that now?”
“They say he’s a swordsman, sahyung.”
“A swordsman? Since when a swordsman?”
“He came aiming for him, apparently.”
“Huh?”
Chung Myung looked between Seok Han-Bin and the swordsman, then let out a deep sigh.
“Ugh, how much trouble has Sago caused to get to this point…”
“What should we do? We did drag him here, though.”
“Should we hang him on that tree?”
“Wouldn’t he die if we did that?”
He already seems dead… No, dying might even be better.
“Catch a passing messenger and tell Branch leader that there’s a swordsman here. The Beggars’ Union will handle it.”
“Ah, that’ll do.”
Tang Soso nodded.
They couldn’t extract anything from the swordsman, but the Beggars’ Union is different. If they can dig up information on this group’s organization or the people they’ve killed, it could help.
“Eases the guilt a bit too.”
“Let’s call it interest, interest.”
“That sounds better, indeed.”
Having dealt with the swordsman, Chung Myung finally turned his gaze to Seok Han-Bin.
“Hmmm.”
Seok Han-Bin flinched at Chung Myung’s look but didn’t appear frightened. After all, he hadn’t done anything wrong this time—couldn’t he be confident?
“Well then… uh. Grr.”
And partly fueling this was the fact that the Taoist facing him behaved oddly like a dog about to soil itself whenever Seok Han-Bin looked at him.
“Sit over there for a bit.”
“Yes.”
Seok Han-Bin sat obediently. Chung Myung, sitting across from him with a stern look, spoke.
“Alright. Now what are you going to do?”
“…Me?”
“How are you going to make a living in this harsh world?!”
Seok Han-Bin involuntarily tilted his head.
It felt like facing a distant relative he hadn’t seen in ages (even though he had none)—a bit awkward and a bit