Became a God-Level Martial Artist

Chapter 13: So You’re Against It

Jin Seong-un stood with his arms crossed, watching the assassin cook.

He moved with the confidence of someone who had spent his whole life as a skilled chef.

With just a few flicks of his hand, he fanned the faint embers he had kept alive into roaring flames.

After heating a cast-iron pot with a handle, he lightly coated it with soybean oil.

Even just the way he moved the handle around to spread the oil across the pot radiated inner arts.

He glanced around the kitchen, clicked his tongue at the lack of ingredients.

“If only there were some meat.”

Muttering that, the man began preparing the vegetables. Strangely, he took out a short blade he had kept in his robe to use.

“Isn’t that the knife you used to kill people?”

“I cleaned it, so don’t worry. Besides, I’m not even letting it touch the ingredients.”

Indeed, a thin layer of blade qi shimmered over the short blade, preventing the edge from actually touching.

The cutting board remained unscathed, showing just how skilled this man was—both as an assassin and as a chef.

In no time, he tossed the prepared vegetables into the pot and stir-fried them. Each time he added a different spice, flames flared up from the pot.

It reminded Jin Seong-un of the Fire Dragon Escape Sword he had learned from the Sword Immortal.

Of course, if the Sword Immortal knew, he would probably clutch his neck in outrage.

Just as he was having that thought—

The man brought over a plate and smoothly plated the food. Not a single drop touched the rim of the dish. This was clearly not the work of an amateur.

“That’s not the work of an assassin.”

“Live as an assassin long enough, and you end up using all kinds of disguises. To assassinate a target, you craft different identities and wait for the right time. I once worked as a chef for a while, so you could say I’m a seasoned professional.”

“……”

It was absurd how casually the man bragged about his career.

But what was even more absurd was how the aroma and presentation of the stir-fried vegetables were anything but ordinary.

Gulp.

Without realizing it, Jin Seong-un swallowed and stared at the stir-fried vegetables.

Seeing this, the man smirked confidently and handed him chopsticks. No explanation was necessary—the message was clear: try it.

Jin Seong-un picked up a piece of bok choy.

The texture, even through the chopsticks, was divine.

But the true wonder only began when he put it in his mouth.

“……!!”

Jin Seong-un’s pupils quivered.

He almost felt wronged—he needed far more time just to cook a bowl of noodles.

Yet here this man was, throwing together whatever was on hand and producing such flavor in an instant.

It must be what a martial artist feels when confronted with an unscalable wall.

“How is it?”

In response to the man’s question, Jin Seong-un took another bite. Once, twice, thrice…

By the time he had eaten nearly half, his expression was deadly serious.

With a sharp tak, Jin Seong-un set the chopsticks down, lost in thought.

“I really should start running the business.”

It was a mutter, but the man agreed.

“That’s right. An inn that doesn’t do business is no different from a storage shed with chairs and tables.”

“……”

It was a painfully accurate remark.

Jin Seong-un asked in a weary tone,

“You look like you’re on the run.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve no intention of stepping outside the kitchen. No one will imagine I’m here.”

“Who is it that’s chasing you?”

Jin Seong-un believed this man’s skills were even above the strongest assassin of the Hongho Seven Ghosts.

Just from the way he handled blade qi, he was more delicate and skilled than anyone outside of the Martial Gods.

“If I tell you, you’ll probably throw me out.”

“I still need to know. For certain reasons, I can’t have someone wanted by the Demonic Path or with a murim bounty here.”

“It’s nothing like that. I got into a fight at a small social gathering. We just didn’t see eye to eye.”

“Answer me properly.”

When Jin Seong-un pressed again, the man scratched his head sheepishly and replied in a tone that made it sound utterly trivial.

“They don’t really have a proper name. But people call them the Deathshroud.”

“……”

For the first time in a while, Jin Seong-un was at a loss for words.

The Deathshroud was the greatest, largest assassin organization in the Central Plains.

“So, it’s as bad as I thought?”

The man smiled bitterly, as if he had expected this. There wasn’t a soul in the world who would welcome hearing that name.

Regardless, Jin Seong-un fell into his own troubled thoughts.

Logically speaking, he should throw the man out.

He himself wasn’t an ordinary waiter, but if even the chef turned out to be a former Deathshroud assassin, the inn would become an odd place indeed.

But the lingering flavor of the stir-fried vegetables made him hesitate.

In over ten years as a waiter, he had never eaten anything this delicious.

And above all—

Until now, he had boiled over hundreds of bowls of noodles, yet this was the first time someone had finished everything down to the broth and told him it was delicious.

“...Come starting tomorrow.”

In the end, Jin Seong-un succumbed to his emotions.

It was a decision he could make because, from the beginning, whether it was the Deathshroud or anything else, he had no particular fear.

The man, looking satisfied with Jin Seong-un’s grand decision, nodded and said,

“You won’t regret it. I’ll look for a room nearby, but until then, I’ll eat and sleep here at the inn. That all right?”

“Do as you wish.”

Though it had been a decision made after some serious thought, once he considered that he had found a chef, Jin Seong-un felt a certain relief.

“I’m Seo Yu-gyeom. Let’s work well together. And don’t delay my pay.”

“Jin Seong-un. I’ll trust you with the flavor of Seong-un Inn.”

The two men exchanged solemn nods. It was the moment the inn had secured the two essential elements—chef and waiter.

Seo Yu-gyeom said he would sleep outside just for tonight.

He thought he had shaken off the Deathshroud completely, but wanted to be prepared just in case.

—Tomorrow morning, I’ll need to fix the broken chairs and tables first. Also the floor and doors. These are all traces of fighting… What, did you buy an inn ruined by martial artists brawling inside? Well, now that I’m here, there’s nothing to worry about.

It seemed he didn’t imagine that the waiter-owner had killed six out of the Hongho Seven Ghosts.

After Seo Yu-gyeom left the inn—

Jin Seong-un immediately went to see the Merchants’ Association Chairman.

“Chairman, I have a favor to ask.”

Merchants’ Association Chairman Oh Jeong-san grinned broadly, filled Jin Seong-un’s cup, and said,

“Speak freely. Fellow companions on the Way should help one another.”

“An assassin came to the inn.”

“...What?”

Oh Jeong-san’s brow twitched fiercely.

Now that Yichang was the territory of the Merchants’ Association, what arrogant assassin dared to stir things up without permission?

“Could this be the doing of the Prosperity Association Leader?”

“It likely is. They were called the Hongho Seven Ghosts.”

Oh Jeong-san’s eyes widened.

He knew the name Hongho Seven Ghosts well.

“They’re the most infamous assassins in Hubei. I’ve heard that the First Ghost’s skills are on par with a first-class Deathshroud assassin... Did you come out unscathed?”

Hearing the name Deathshroud again brought Jin Seong-un a strange feeling.

“There were seven in total, so the First Ghost must have been among them.”

“You did well to come. I’ll gather my subordinates, so let’s go together. Assassins are cunning, so we can’t just judge by appearances.”

“They’re already all dead.”

“I see, all dea—”

Oh Jeong-san stopped abruptly, as if ready to gather the association’s martial artists and storm the inn right away.

He looked at Jin Seong-un and asked,

“Really?”

“Yes. I put them in the backyard. I thought there might be bounties on their heads.”

“...Most likely.”

“I figured it’d be difficult to explain if I went to the magistrate myself, so I came to ask you.”

Oh Jeong-san let out a wry laugh.

So—it wasn’t that he wanted help fighting the assassins, but that he wanted help disposing of the bodies.

And not just any bodies, but those of the Hongho Seven Ghosts.

“I know the newly appointed head constable quite well. Don’t worry about that part.”

“Thank you. Of the seven, please take the share for two.”

“...Ahem. I’ll put it toward the association’s expenses. How could I use your share for personal gain?”

Once again, the Prosperity Association Leader and the Merchants’ Association Chairman were worlds apart.

When Jin Seong-un nodded, Oh Jeong-san asked carefully,

“By the way, just what realm are you at?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure myself. My masters always said that realms aren’t important.”

“Heo!”

Oh Jeong-san let out an exclamation.

It sounded as if Jin Seong-un’s masters were absolute experts who had transcended realms.

And, in a way, that wasn’t wrong.

“If you meet your masters again, could you ask what connection they have to the Wudang Sect? I’m certain your sword is of the Daoist school. To be frank, it’s remarkably similar to Wudang’s sword arts. But no matter how much I think on it, I can’t recall any such sword art existing in Wudang.”

“I understand.”

Since it wasn’t a difficult request, Jin Seong-un readily nodded.

.

.

.

Oh Jeong-san came with Jin Seong-un to Seong-un Inn and confirmed the corpses of the Hongho Seven Ghosts.

It had been surprising enough to hear about them, but seeing them lying there so neatly felt strange.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you.”

Oh Jeong-san grabbed three by the clothes in his right hand and four in his left, lifting them all at once.

Given his massive build, he didn’t seem to find it difficult.

“Should any more trouble arise, feel free to speak to me at any time.”

“Understood. And starting tomorrow, I’ll begin running the business.”

“Oh! That’s excellent news. So you’ve finally found a chef?”

Jin Seong-un nodded with satisfaction.

Smiling in return, Oh Jeong-san said he would come by soon for a meal, then disappeared in a flash.

After Oh Jeong-san left, Jin Seong-un went back inside the inn. Seeing the empty inn somehow calmed his heart.

“At first light, I’ll need to start repairs.”

Many small things had been broken during the fight with the Hongho Seven Ghosts. Fortunately, aside from the chairs, nothing was seriously damaged, so he figured he could finish in the morning.

He glanced around the area.

After confirming no one else was there…

“Hehehe.”

It was an oddly sly laugh—not intentional, but simply because he had so rarely laughed aloud before.

For some reason, he found it awkward and clumsy to show emotions in front of others.

But now, thinking he could finally run the inn, he couldn’t help but smile.

With that anticipation for tomorrow, Jin Seong-un headed toward the storage shed where the Martial Gods were.

It seemed he should tell the Sword Immortal that his words had been correct.

.

.

.

The Martial Gods looked as peaceful as ever.

The Sword Immortal and Noble Enchantress were playing go, while the Merchant King and Divine Thief were grabbing each other by the collar.

The Blood Demon, of course, was lying down, staring at the sky.

“I said I was looking for a chef, but an assassin came instead. Of course, I decided to use him as a chef…”

When Jin Seong-un said that, the Sword Immortal replied with a casual laugh.

“An assassin or a chef—it’s the same if they’re a master of the Way of the Blade.”

“That’s true enough.”

The image of Seo Yu-gyeom raising blade qi to prepare vegetables was still vivid in his mind.

Jin Seong-un, thinking to himself and smiling, suddenly asked,

“Sword Immortal, I have something to ask.”

“If you wish again for me to reveal heavenly secrets, I cannot. I am not one who completely disregards Heaven’s gaze.”

“It’s not that—I’m simply curious about you, Elder.”

“Wait.”

The Sword Immortal stared at the go board for a moment.

Realizing he could not possibly win against Noble Enchantress, he slapped his palm down on the board.

With the match ruined in an instant, Noble Enchantress leapt up in protest.

“W–What are you doing!”

“When a lovely junior has something to ask, is this trifling go game important?”

“……”

Noble Enchantress pressed her lips shut in frustration. She clearly seemed to find the Sword Immortal the most difficult to deal with.

Leaving Noble Enchantress behind, the Sword Immortal turned to Jin Seong-un.

“So, what is it you wish to know?”

“The Merchants’ Association Chairman asked me whether the person who taught me the sword has any connection to the Wudang Sect.”

“You said that boy was from Wudang?”

“Yes, a secular disciple—Oh Jeong-san. Have you heard of him?”

The Sword Immortal chuckled in disbelief.

As if—did they know what era he was from?

“So the boy recognized the principle contained in your sword. He likely only sensed it vaguely.”

“He said my sword felt similar to Wudang sword arts. But he also said there’s no such sword art in the current Wudang Sect. Of course, you don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not…”

Jin Seong-un was curious in truth.

Aside from the Merchant King, he knew little about who the Martial Gods were or what stories they carried.

“That boy, Oh Jeong-san, is correct.”

“So you truly learned Wudang martial arts?”

Well—

Given the title “Sword Immortal,” it wouldn’t be surprising.

That honorific was usually attached to the greatest Daoist swordsman of the era, so perhaps he had even been Wudang’s Sect Leader.

“Did I learn Wudang martial arts?”

The Sword Immortal smiled slyly, then suddenly stood up, placing his hand firmly on his hip.

It was the very picture of unshakable pride.

“Has there ever been a master who learned martial arts from his disciple? I did not learn from Wudang—it was the other way around.”

“…What?”