It was clearly something to be called an achievement.
I mean finishing an investigation into an incident from twenty years ago—one that had nothing to do with the murim world—in just three days.
It was a result achieved by sending message-birds to the main hall a dozen times a day, crying, pleading, clinging, and threatening. It might not be something to boast about loudly, but it was worth an embarrassed sort of pride, wasn’t it?
But what Hong Dae-Kwang considered his true achievement wasn’t finishing the investigation in three days. It was that he had protected Branch for three days in the grip of that raging lunatic.
“It was majestic, wasn’t it.”
“…”
“If I’d known how valuable he was beforehand, I wouldn’t have lived as a beggar.”
“What are you saying, you’ve been at this since a while ago?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
Just having that thought made him feel somehow guilty toward the Beggars’ Union. What was so bad about living as a beggar?
“Three days, huh. For lazy beggar bastards, they still did it fairly quickly.”
“…”
“I thought they’d drag it out a full seven weeks.”
“…No matter how much of a beggar, we’re the Beggars’ Union—seven weeks is a bit much.”
“Because you’re with the Beggars’ Union, they only gave them seven days.”
“No. How much would you have to disdain the Beggars’ Union to…”
“It’s not disdain for the Beggars’ Union, it’s disdain for beggars. Even if they’re the Beggars’ Union, does it make sense that beggars get things done in seven days? If people could do that, why would they live as beggars? With that effort they’d make so much money.”
“Uh…?”
Hong Dae-Kwang’s head tilted to the side on its own.
“Yeah. Normally you’d get paid for doing work like this—so why are we doing the work while even paying tribute? Where did things go wrong…?”
“Worry about your own life later. So what’s the result?”
“The result. Yes, about that result.”
Hong Dae-Kwang snorted a laugh.
“They were ruined completely, you know?”
“…”
“Really utterly… Ah, no. Put your fists down a bit!”
“You want me to spare someone who spent three days investigating but still spouts the same nonsense as before? Wouldn’t it be better to just send this beggar to the afterlife now? Then even the neighborhood dogs would get fat—less competition.”
“Hey, your inner thoughts are coming out. Anyway, it’s not the same result, so calm down for now.”
“…Not the same result?”
“Yes. The same but different…”
Trailing off to draw Chung Myung’s attention, Hong Dae-Kwang smiled awkwardly and spoke.
“They were more thoroughly ruined than I expected.”
“…”
“No, I didn’t expect it to be this bad before investigating. You know that saying—three years? Three generations?”
“If you mix words with beggars, three generations are unlucky?”
“A rich man may fall, but three generations endure anything, you bastard!”
Shouting loudly, Hong Dae-Kwang tapped the papers in front of him with the back of his hand.
“That Shandong Yu family place, even if not large in scale, was a place that made a name for itself, wasn’t it?”
“Right.”
He didn’t know at the time that the scale wasn’t actually that big.
“So I figured at least something would remain. Even if they fell, it wasn’t like they were traitors who’d had the household torn apart.”
“And?”
“But actually, the traitors would have been less ruined.”
“…Huh?”
Hong Dae-Kwang shrugged.
“Sometimes traitors are pardoned and restored to their positions, aren’t they?”
“I suppose… so?”
Chung Myung’s exact inner reply was ‘Really?’ but he couldn’t show ignorance here.
“So that means even a family annihilated to the roots might leave one or two people worthy of pardon, right?”
“That… should be so?”
“But the Shandong Yu household or whatever the hell they were—how the hell were they set up? They didn’t commit treason, yet there’s no descendant left to be found.”
“…”
“This can’t be explained by saying the pillars were uprooted. You’d have to cut down the pillar roots and roast meat on the exposed foundation stones to maybe get this level of destruction.”
“…”
“Damn. I wonder what kind of sins the ancestors committed for the family to be ruined like this. It’s so thoroughly ruined it makes me feel relieved just watching—Aagh! Why are you hitting me!”
“Ah. Don’t mind it and keep going.”
“How can you not mind someone getting beaten… Ack! Aagh! No, why are you hitting me!”
“This isn’t something I can control, so it can’t be helped. Just accept it and continue.”
“Aaaagh!”
“I said continue, didn’t I?”
After a long commotion, when things finally calmed, Hong Dae-Kwang, looking fed up, continued speaking to Chung Myung.
“Anyway, so that utter… ahem. We tracked the descendants of that somewhat-ruined family, and usually they either died away while traveling or changed their names and vanished without a trace.”
“So that means…”
“Mm.”
Hong Dae-Kwang nodded.
“The line has ended.”
“…”
“Well, it’s basically a non-existent family now.”
“Ugh…”
Chung Myung grabbed the back of his neck.
The family was so utterly ruined that the line was completely cut off?
So does that mean he was stabbed to death, the sect is in ruins, and the family line is broken. Is this possible without having betrayed the nation in a past life?
“Strange, isn’t it.”
Hong Dae-Kwang scratched his chin.
“Usually it can’t get this bad.”
Hong Dae-Kwang muttered a few more words, but they didn’t reach Chung Myung’s ears.
In truth, how the Shandong Yu household fell was outside Chung Myung’s interest. The important thing was that the Shandong Yu place no longer existed.
‘This poor man.’
Chung Myung shook his head. It might be a mercy that he died and didn’t have to see this. If Chung Mun had come back alive and seen this, he couldn’t imagine what he would have felt.
“Hey, Mount Hua Divine Dragon. Are you listening?”
“…I got it all now.”
With an inexplicable unease, Chung Myung rose from his seat.
“I’ll go take a look.”
“Huh? Really? Then are you just going to ignore this?”
“Ignore? What are you talking about?”
“Did you hear anything I said? I told you.”
“What?”
Hong Dae-Kwang’s face contorted mercilessly. He’d explained so diligently.
“There aren’t any left using the Yu surname, but there’s someone who seems to be a descendant… Gah!”
Suddenly Chung Myung sprang forward, grabbed Hong Dae-Kwang by the collar, and shook him violently.
“You frustrating beggar man! You should’ve said that first!”
“I-I said it! You just didn’t hear!”
“If you’d said it properly, I would have heard.”
“Please… Please, could you get struck by lightning and die somewhere? I’m begging you. Please…”
“Thirteen years old?”
“Seems so.”
“Name?”
“Seok Han-Bin.”
“What kind of name is that?”
“Of course it’s a fake one.”
“Hmm.”
Chung Myung scratched his cheek. The important thing wasn’t what name he currently used.
“Why suspicious?”
“He once accidentally spoke his father’s name, and that name was Yi-Kwang.”
Hong Dae-Kwang rifled through the documents and pulled something out.
“The last person recorded in the Shandong Yu family’s genealogy was Yu Yi-Kwang.”
Chung Myung frowned.
“That’s all?”
“‘All’? How important is this primary record?”
“No, even so…”
“A thirteen-year-old suddenly appears with no ties and lives alone? Then of course there’s a story. And the timing and name match?”
Hong Dae-Kwang shrugged.
“This goes without saying.”
“…”
“What’s with that look? We’re the experts here. You don’t trust the Beggars’ Union? Beggars’ Union?”
“Ugh.”
Chung Myung scratched his head hard. He wanted to refute it, but couldn’t manage it well.
“Then check one more thing for me.”
“Hm? What?”
“Among the Shandong Yu household, was there an old person named Yu Ja-Gyeong?”
“Yu Ja-Gyeong? Hold on.”
Hong Dae-Kwang rummaged through the pile of papers in front of him and pulled out a few sheets—likely a condensed genealogy of the Yu family.
“Yu Ja-Gyeong, Yu Ja-Gyeong… hmm, there he is.”
“…”
“But he’s terribly old—well over a hundred years ago…”
“Got it.”
Chung Myung stood up.
“Huh? Mount Hua Divine Dragon? You’re just going to leave like this? Hey, you! At least give some investigation fees! Mount Hua Divine Dragon!”
Chung Myung shrugged as he left the hut.
“Well, anyway, it means the line isn’t completely gone.”
Of course, whether that Seok Han-Bin was truly a descendant of the Yu family couldn’t be known at the moment. There was no pressing need to confirm it—maybe it was better not to.
“This wasn’t my fault to begin with.”
If it had been something he did wrong, like at Mount Hua, he’d feel uneasy and couldn’t stay idle—but how could he have influenced something that happened so far away in Shandong?
If it was doomed to fall, it fell; if it was likely to be smashed to pieces, it was smashed to pieces.
“Ah, what a relief.”
Chung Myung grinned at the neatly resolved situation.
“So that’s how it is. Don’t expect anything from me for no reason. This really isn’t my fault, got it? If it were my sahyung’s son I might have cared, but asking me to mind distant descendants is ridiculous.”
Chung Myung pointed at the sky for no reason.
The sky was perfectly clear.
“Ugh. Today was tough, too.”
“Training has to be hard to be training.”
“Soso, do you know why people who speak the truth die young?”
“Even if I die young, I think I’d live longer than sahyung?”
“…Honestly, I think so too.”
The disciples entered the dining hall, trading trivial banter. Since training hadn’t finished easily today either, it was fairly late evening as usual.
“I’m so hungry.”
“At this point I could chew on iron.”
But unfortunately, those who entered the dining hall late couldn’t eat right away.
“Huh?”
“What’s that?”
Their eyes fell on a sight of about a dozen Mount Hua disciples, regardless of celadon or white-hulled boats, gathered in one spot whispering about something.
Baek Cheon’s face automatically clouded. The scene felt ominous and unsettling.
“If you’re in the dining hall, eat, why are you scheming?”
“Ma—sasuk. Have you come?”
The disciples who spotted Baek Cheon turned pale and rushed over to him.
“Oh! Sahyung. You arrived just in time.”
“Huh? ‘Just in time’—what do you mean…?”
“First, come this way. Come here and look at that.”
“What am I supposed to look at?”
“Over there.”
“Huh? That’s Chung Myung. What’s the fuss… huh?”
Seeing Chung Myung sitting in the corner eating, Baek Cheon started to speak nonchalantly before freezing on the spot.
“Th-that bastard.”
Baek Cheon pointed at Chung Myung with trembling hands.
“Why? Why is he eating his meal with his nose?”
“He’s been doing that since earlier.”
Baek Cheon confirmed Chung Myung’s appearance again with a dazed face. The spoon, having spilled half the soup on the floor, drifted near his mouth and ended up stuck in his nose.
“No. Why is he holding the spoon to his nose while pursing his lips?”
“…You’ll have to ask us that.”
Baek Cheon covered his face with both hands.
‘Please.’
It’s not like that guy has been mad for only a day or two, but…
“Even if he’s crazy, he could at least go crazy gracefully… Why does he have to be so colorful about it?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“Maybe we should call a physician…”
“That’s not for a physician to heal. sasuk.”
“…Fine. If Soso says so, then that must be right.”
Baek Cheon sighed and looked at Chung Myung. Already, the spoon scooping fresh soup had again lodged in his nose.
A blank expression might have been easier to bear, but his face insisted ‘I’m perfectly fine and very peaceful right now,’ which made it far more bizarre.
“What do you think he’s thinking?”
“Who knows?”
“At that level, it’s severe.”
“But doesn’t it make you anxious?”
“Huh? What are you talking about now?”
Yoon Jong answered with a face full of concern.
“…Whenever that guy acts like that, he always ends up causing some major incident.”
“…”
Baek Cheon shuddered.
‘Ill-omened.’
Certainly something ominous was about to happen.