SERIES: Returning to the Dark Moon
Chapter 6. Elder Un
After leaving the Golden Sword Merchant Guild, I headed for the underground gambling den.
The gambling den in the basement of the Cloud Flower Pavilion was famous for being the largest in the area. Among the people of the martial world, it was known as a branch of the Haomun.
Passing through the lavish first floor and descending the damp wooden stairs, I was greeted by two spear-wielding guards standing before a solid iron door.
“Welcome.”
The two third-rate martial artists from the Unorthodox Faction bowed their heads in greeting when they saw me. I was a regular, after all.
What were their names again...?
It had been too long; I couldn't quite remember. Not that it mattered. They were just grunts from the Haomun, the Unorthodox Faction's intelligence sect.
“Ah, yes. Good to see you. Bun Chil, my man. It’s been a while.”
“My name is Jeon Ak.”
“Don’t talk back. If I say it is, it is. Just open the door.”
There's an old saying that love is an open door. And it seemed these guys loved me, their customer, as they swung the iron door wide open.
I stepped through the opening.
The moment I entered the gambling den, a pungent medicinal smell assaulted my nose. It was a familiar scent to me. The desperate, damp stench unique to a gambling den.
‘Now this is what I call living.’
After seeing nothing but soft-bellied beggars, facing guys who truly had nothing to lose actually put my mind at ease.
“Brother Kim, has the god of gambling descended upon you today? How much are you winning?”
“Hey, now! Compared to what I’ve lost so far, this is just a drop in the bucket! This dice game is a filial son, I tell you, a filial son.”
The men sitting at the table, with sickles and hoes tucked into their belts like common folk, glanced at me as they spoke.
‘Haomun members.’
The Haomun. A sanctuary for those who work in the lowest of places.
In a way, you could say they were similar to the Beggars' Sect. Both had the nature of an intelligence sect, and the majority of their members were of humble origin.
The only difference was that the Beggars' Sect had its lines, whereas the Haomun had none.
I approached the Haomun members running the game. After watching the dice roll across the square table for a moment, I naturally took a seat in the empty chair.
Perhaps they hadn't expected me to sit here. The dumbfounded Haomun members stared at me blankly until the one with the sickle at his waist cleared his throat and spoke.
…It’s your turn, Brother Kim. I got a seven. Can you believe it, a seven with two dice? My luck is shit today. And you, the newcomer, what’s your name?
I looked at the Haomun member playing dumb, gave a smirk, and stroked the sword at my waist.
“Wangcho. Just an unknown gambler.
“Hah, what a beggar-like name. You there, why are you carrying a sword? How are simple farmers like us supposed to get around with fearsome martial artists everywhere?”
I didn’t bother responding. I just watched the dice being rolled by the man called Brother Kim.
The dice tumbled from the man’s rough fingers and came to a stop, showing two numbers. A 6 and a 4. A rather high roll.
But I immediately saw the secret to his winning streak. He was using his internal energy to make the dice land on the numbers he wanted.
This bastard still hasn't learned his lesson.
The rules of the dice game were simple: roll two dice, and the person with the higher number wins. That was why it was the most popular game.
“Yeah, I’ll be able to face my wife and kids when I get home today! Hah, this is why I can’t quit this place!”
The man grinned, signaling that it was now my turn. I smiled back at him, grabbed the dice, and threw them in the gambler’s face.
“Hwapyeong, you son of a bitch—did you think I wouldn’t recognize you just because you changed your face with a human-skin mask? The owner of the gambling den, cheating at his own tables? What did I say would happen if I caught you pulling that shit one more time?
The man’s face visibly stiffened. He wasn’t sweating, of course. He was wearing a mask modeled after someone else’s face.
The gambling den’s owner, Hwapyeong, the branch manager of the Haomun’s Shenyang branch, seemed frustrated and quickly downed the liquor on the table.
Then, he stared intently at the sword at my waist before finally speaking.
“Wow, how did you know it was me? But you’re wrong about one thing. This is the first time I’ve been caught cheating. Haha, since you made a mistake too, I think it would be best if we just quietly overlooked each other’s errors.”
It seems my meddling in his cheating scams must have happened much later in the future.
I grabbed the wrist of Hwapyeong, who was spouting nonsense, and squeezed.
“Ah, ack! Wait, why do you have no class? Wangcho, didn’t I tell you that if you keep acting like this, you’ll be a beggar for the rest of your life?
I sighed and looked at the man who had just dropped the formalities. I don’t know when he took off the human-skin mask, but his real face, riddled with all sorts of scars, was now grinning at me.
Since ancient times, the Haomun and the Beggars' Sect, being fellow intelligence sects, had many dealings with each other. In a world currently without war, there was no particular reason for them to fight.
Of course, the fact that Elder Hwa dealt with Poison Experts and the Assassin Sect was another matter entirely.
In any case, it meant this guy was a friend I’d known since childhood.
Damn it all.
In my past life, this cheating gambler’s beginning was humble, but his end was spectacular. He was caught trying to cheat none other than Baek Cheon, and after spewing all sorts of curses, his head exploded and he died.
Oblivious to my complicated feelings, the mad gambler kept muttering.
“Usually, when I set up a game with this friend here, we’re guaranteed to hook at least one sucker. Hah, this is why you have to keep beggars out of gambling dens. They’re too sharp. Too damn sharp.”
“Branch Manager, please shut up.”
“…Should I?”
I almost smacked Hwapyeong over the head, and I felt a boundless sense of gratitude toward the nameless Haomun member who had cut in at just the right moment.
It seemed this guy’s hot temper wasn’t going to change, even with age.
In any case, these two knew why I was here. Which meant there was no need for a long-winded explanation.
“Hwapyeong, the money Elder Hwa stashed away. Where is it?”
Hwapyeong, grinning at me for getting straight to the point, finished his drink and spoke.
“Oh, I know all about that. I was about to die from frustration over it anyway, so this is perfect. Let’s go. For the record, I’m not going in with you.”
Who in the world could be in there?
I let out a small laugh and followed him deeper into the underground gambling den.
Ah, this makes bringing the money from the merchant guild pointless. But it was also true that the more money, the better.
Entering Hwapyeong’s room alone, I couldn’t hide a hollow laugh. A completely unexpected person was guarding Elder Hwa’s money.
“Hm? Well, look who it is. How long has it been? Huga, is the Sect Leader well? Hah, I’ve been so busy with this and that, I haven’t seen him. I just hope the old man isn’t crying his eyes out without me.”
A muscular giant sat on a large wooden chair, a twisted smile on his face as he looked at me. He was, of course, a familiar figure.
One of the four Elders who symbolized the military might of the Beggars' Sect, the Yonghopungun (the Varyn Drake).
“Elder Un, what are you doing here? Since when did you become Elder Hwa’s dog, cleaning up his messes?”
“Hah? What have you done to your body? This can’t be right. You haven’t reached the Three Flowers Converging at the Summit, the state of Hwagyeong, have you? My Upper Dantian judges you to be at the level of a Transcendent Master, yet the energy I feel is closer to Hwagyeong.”
We were both just saying whatever we wanted. That’s because Elder Un is a man obsessed with martial arts. Just now was a perfect example. He saw right through the fact that I hadn’t truly reached the state of Hwagyeong.
That’s because the prerequisite for entering the Sun and Moon Heavenly Art is the Three Flowers Converging at the Summit. The state where three flower buds take form. In other words, Hwagyeong.
It was also called the Unification of Essence, Qi, and Spirit, as the three Dantians become one.
‘Is he sensing it as Hwagyeong because I forced my way in using the energy of the elixir?’
Kicking his chair back, Elder Un stood and stomped the ground hard. A loud *thump* struck my ears, and in that same instant, the giant, who had somehow closed the distance between us, threw a punch.
I staggered as if drunk, dodging his fist. A trickle of red blood ran from my cheek, cut by the fierce pressure of the wind. It stung a little.
‘That crazy bastard, he put his full power into it. Why the sudden aggression?
What if he’d killed me?
“As expected of the Drunken Eight Immortals Steps. It’s certainly tricky. But it’s not enough to say you’ve transcended your level. Show me more.”
His heavy voice, muttering, “Here I come again—,” drifted on the wind as his brutish hand reached out to grab my head.
‘Golden Grasping Hand. Whose head is he trying to crush?’
I immediately drew the sword from my waist and, at the same time, unleashed a pure white sword qi, slashing at Elder Un’s palm.
Only then did Elder Un flinch and retreat. Something was strange. He’s backing down already? Why?
But if he was going to back off first, I was grateful for it. I was exhausted from circulating my internal energy too hastily, so I caught my breath and asked him.
“Your movements are too sluggish. Why is that? Are your disciples starving you because you’re so cantankerous? Tsk. The Beggars' Sect has really gone to the dogs. No, wait, if they’re shunning you for colluding with Elder Hwa, they deserve a reward.”
“Hah? If you were going to be like this, why were you so polite earlier? In any case, your lack of manners is the same as ever. The hand that’s been pressing down on me… no, anyway, you’re saying this isn’t your doing? I see.”
What?
I looked at Elder Un, who had started to sweat, and tilted my head confused.
“…Are you suffering from Qi Deviation? You’re spouting nonsense. Then again, I’d probably be the same. Disciples not feeding their master? What ungrateful bastards. Since their master is Elder Hwa’s dog, I guess that makes them sons of a bitch. Elder Un, bark for me.
Ah. Woof! Woof!”
“…It seems the inner demon has possessed you. My cooperation with Elder Hwa is unavoidable. We are bound by a promise made in our youth.”
With those words, Elder Un launched into a long, sob story. I think it started with his parents, but it was so tedious and cliché that I just stood there and dozed off.
This was something I hadn't known in my past life, though. Back then, Elder Hwa had never involved Elder Un. What was their relationship? It was clear some complicated history was tangled between them.
‘So what?’
Did I really need to know? Whatever happened with the Elder Hwa of the past had nothing to do with me. In a world where even a farmer's son who unjustly lost his parents can set the world on fire...
Who in the martial world doesn't have a sob story?
I sheathed the sword at my waist and held out my hand to him.
“Elder Un, just give me the ledger Elder Hwa has. In any case, Elder Hwa has crossed a line. Wouldn't you agree? Disguising members of the Beggars' Sect as assassins of the Assassin Sect? That's just not on.”
“Hm?”
“How did you know? No, what exactly is behind you,...?”
“No. Don't mind it.”
For a moment, Elder Un clenched his fists as if to fight me, but then he let out a deep sigh, opened the safe, and obediently handed over the ledger. His tough fingers were trembling so much it was almost pitiful.
Had some illness taken hold of him? For a moment, I couldn't understand his bizarre behavior.
“Go.”
“Hm?”
“I said, go.”
After glaring at him as he shouted irritably, I finally left Elder Un's room. A nagging, unsettled feeling lingered in my heart.
Why had a master of his caliber become like that?
I had achieved my goal, which was a relief, but my mind was still racing.
Staring blankly into the room Wangcho had just left, Elder Un's eyes suddenly flashed with the clear light characteristic of the martial arts of the Righteous Path. The immense palm that had been pressing down on him had finally been lifted.
It was a crushing pressure, like the Buddha pinning the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, under the Five Elements Mountain.
Just before Wangcho left the room, he had seen an old monk in the heir's shadow. The monk, wearing a bamboo hat, had looked at him and put a finger to his lips—*shhh*.
Ahem, enough. Lower your fist. Before I embed these prayer beads in your skull.
Along with the warning came the faint echo of ancient laughter. It was an irresistible power. Elder Un had wanted nothing more than to slam his head to the floor and kneel.
“Hooo......””
Only after a long while could Elder Un finally manage to lift his head.
The question of who that was kept circling in his mind, until the mystical power of his upper dantian produced a conclusion he could never have imagined.
Teacher of Heaven and Men.
It was an ancient, faded name.
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