Became a God-Level Martial Artist

Chapter 8: Worse Ones Will Come

"……That’s what happened."

Seo Ha-pyeong, the General Manager of the Prosperity Association.

He gave a detailed account to the Chairman about the incident that had taken place at Seong-un Inn.

"You fool. You’re telling me that the so-called General Manager of the Prosperity Association came back after hearing such insolence right to your face?"

"I apologize."

Seo Ha-pyeong bowed his head.

As someone who had not learned martial arts, what could he possibly have done there?

However, he did not bother making excuses.

Once the Chairman lost his temper, he was the kind of man who accepted no explanation.

‘A textbook delinquent.’

Those who lived relying on their father’s renown, trusting in their own meager skills, and letting emotions control their actions.

There had always been people like that, unable to distinguish between the Orthodox and the Black Path.

What was unreasonable was that most of them managed to grow up unscathed and claim lofty positions.

"What should we do?"

Seo Ha-pyeong asked calmly.

Chairman Jo Tae-ho of the Prosperity Association felt an overwhelming urge to smash the General Manager’s head in.

But he could not bring himself to do it.

The General Manager not only managed all the Association’s financial channels, but there were also quite a few people who traded with the Prosperity Association solely because they trusted his abilities.

"……."

Seo Ha-pyeong stared straight at the Chairman with an oddly serene gaze.

Suddenly, the words of the inn’s waiter came to mind.

He must be paying you a lot to make you work under a man like that.

Yes, it was because of the money.

The Chairman had paid him a sum large enough that he couldn’t get anywhere else. Still, he couldn’t help feeling pathetic about his situation in moments like these.

"You said he told you to send a martial artist next time?"

"Yes, I believe he spared me because I don’t know martial arts."

"How ridiculous. That little waiter talks as if he were some great hero of the Orthodox Path."

The Chairman roughly drained the now-cold tea and continued speaking.

"Fine, I’ll give him exactly what he wants. Send word to the Southern Black Lotus to summon the Hongho Seven Ghosts."

"……All of them?"

Seo Ha-pyeong, doubting his ears, met the Chairman’s sinister gaze and nodded.

"Yes, understood."

In the southern part of Hubei Province—

There were seven assassins who operated around a massive lake called Hongho.

The most infamous rumor about them was that they had killed an elder of the Wudang Sect and fled.

Each of them was a master on par with the assassins of Deathshroud, the greatest assassin organization under heaven, and their leader, the Ghost of Slaughter, was said to have surpassed the peak of martial prowess.

They had been taken in by none other than the Chairman’s father, Jo Rae-ak, the leader of the Southern Black Lotus.

"Shall I send them straight to Seong-un Inn?"

"Tell them to come and wait."

The Chairman had no intention of letting that waiter die easily.

Daring to act cocky toward the Prosperity Association in Yichang, he intended to torment him persistently before finally killing him.

Seong-un Inn.

Unlike the Chairman of the Prosperity Association, who was raging wildly, at that same moment Jin Seong-un was simply staring at his empty noodle bowl.

"He was a decent man."

General Manager Seo Ha-pyeong, unlike most of those from the Black Path, had the decency to appreciate the effort of someone who cooked for him.

The food had surely been terrible, yet he had emptied the bowl to the last.

At that moment—

"Hey, Seong-un. If you haven’t eaten yet……."

No Sang-won of Sangwon Cloth Shop stepped into the inn, then paused when he saw the noodle bowl.

Jin Seong-un narrowed his eyes and spoke.

"It’s empty."

"Ah, I see."

For some reason relieved, No Sang-won entered the inn.

"If you don’t mind, how about we have one last meal together?"

"Last?"

Was this a declaration of severing ties?

Just as Jin Seong-un was wondering that—

"I’m leaving this place."

It was an abrupt statement.

Jin Seong-un stared at No Sang-won.

His expression was quite complicated—relief, regret, and even a faint anger that, while hidden, was visible to someone like Jin Seong-un who had trained in martial arts.

"What happened?"

"What do you mean, happened?"

No Sang-won shrugged.

The two decided to eat outside for now and left the inn.

Jin Seong-un glanced at Sangwon Cloth Shop.

It was already partially packed up.

It really did seem like he was leaving this place.

"I heard you’ve been running your shop here for twenty years."

"That’s right. But it’s time for me to leave. Those who don’t change are bound to be weeded out."

"This is sudden. Is it because of me?"

It was a reasonable guess.

The only thing that could be called a change for No Sang-won recently was Jin Seong-un opening a shop next door.

"……Of course not. I like you."

No Sang-won grinned as he spoke.

But Jin Seong-un did not miss that fleeting hesitation.

He heightened his senses.

The sound of No Sang-won’s breathing, his pulse, the faint tremor of his pupils.

‘He’s hiding something.’

No Sang-won was lying.

Jin Seong-un came to a sudden stop.

No Sang-won also halted and looked at him.

"Tell me."

Jin Seong-un spoke calmly.

No Sang-won quietly looked back at him.

He tried to hold it in. He didn’t want to burden this new young friend with guilt.

That was the role of an adult.

But when he faced Jin Seong-un’s composed expression and caught sight of his own shop in the background, No Sang-won’s eyes began to redden.

Jin Seong-un showed a rare expression of surprise.

"Wait, why are you suddenly crying?"

"I’m not crying. My eyes just sting because I’m so resentful and angry."

"Most people call that crying."

"……."

No Sang-won then wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

"The Prosperity Association came to me. Told me to leave. I guess I looked close to you. They’re dead set on harassing you. They’ll get rid of the people you can rely on, one by one, until you’re completely isolated."

"How petty."

"That’s just how martial artists are."

Jin Seong-un nodded.

Having lived nearly twenty years as an inn waiter, he could understand those words.

"Just so you know, this isn’t your fault at all. Those damned bastards are the problem. Actually, this might be for the best. I’m sick of pandering to them anyway."

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

"If you head west along the Yangtze River, there’s a place called Jingzhou. The merchants’ association there, unlike the Prosperity Association, is run by a martial artist from the Orthodox Path. I heard he’s from the Wudang Sect."

"Is that so."

No Sang-won nodded firmly.

"The Jingzhou Merchants’ Association doesn’t oppress merchants, and they even keep the Black Path away."

"How long will it take to reach Jingzhou?"

"If you travel non-stop along the Yangtze, it’ll take about three days there and five days back."

Jin Seong-un nodded, deep in thought.

Seeing this, No Sang-won suddenly felt uneasy.

"Look here. If you’re thinking of asking the Jingzhou Merchants’ Association for help, forget it."

"Why not?"

Jin Seong-un asked, genuinely curious.

The biggest obstacle to taking down the Prosperity Association was liquor.

In Yichang, the system was such that no alcohol could be brought in without going through the Prosperity Association.

But if there was an organization strong enough to form a merchants’ association, couldn’t they be set up in their place?

"The group the Prosperity Association is most wary of is the Jingzhou Merchants’ Association. They know full well the merchants’ association could replace them."

And there was also the matter of the relationship between the Orthodox and Black Paths.

For that reason, anyone who tried to connect with the Jingzhou Merchants’ Association would be brutally killed by the Prosperity Association to set an example.

Also, there was no guarantee that even if he went to them, they would be willing to act.

If they ignored the request, it would only provoke the Prosperity Association for nothing.

No Sang-won was deeply worried Jin Seong-un might truly cross that line.

But Jin Seong-un simply gave a decisive thumbs-up, as if he had found his answer.

"Alright."

"……What’s alright?"

"Just wait seven days and nights."

Three days to go, four days to return.

If that was No Sang-won’s standard, then Jin Seong-un was confident that with his movement arts, he could run there, get a definite answer from the association, and return within five days.

"No. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not that."

But Jin Seong-un just nodded vaguely and then disappeared using his movement arts.

Jin Seong-un ran straight along the Yangtze River.

Then he suddenly veered off course and returned to the inn.

They might not have been his formal masters, but he felt he should at least tell the people who had taught him that he was leaving for a while.

The wide yard of the inn.

When he opened the door of the storage shed, a pitch-black darkness spread out despite it being broad daylight.

The Martial Gods were playing Go.

It was a match between the Sword Immortal and Divine Thief.

Noble Enchantress and the Merchant King stood behind each of them, giving advice, while the Blood Demon lay some distance away, pretending not to care, staring at the sky—although in truth, the whole world here looked like the night sky.

"Seong-un, you’ve come."

The Sword Immortal greeted Jin Seong-un absentmindedly before turning his gaze back to the board.

Divine Thief fidgeted with the stones, looking somewhat anxious.

"I think I need to go somewhere for a while."

At that, the Sword Immortal and Divine Thief froze mid-move. Everyone turned to look at Jin Seong-un.

"Why?"

Jin Seong-un explained the situation.

The existence of the Prosperity Association.

The atrocities they had committed.

And the Jingzhou Merchants’ Association.

"Hoh!"

The Sword Immortal let out a deep sigh.

It was as though flames were blazing in his eyes.

"Seong-un, why are you still here? I taught you a sword that could cut down evil. Go and slaughter every last one of those Prosperity Association bastards and save the common people!"

Noble Enchantress, whose sense of justice was almost as strong as the Sword Immortal’s, chimed in.

"The Sword Immortal speaks true. Since those villains do not fear the heavens, it is only right that you act on heaven’s behalf and deliver divine punishment."

Both of them, with their strong chivalrous hearts, seemed deeply enraged at the Prosperity Association.

Divine Thief spoke in a bored tone.

"Didn’t I teach you the Shadowless Steps? Just go at night, take them out, and run."

"Even with a single technique from the Blood-Bare Hands Art, you could wipe out that so-called Prosperity Association entirely."

Still lying down, the Blood Demon tilted his head slightly, eyes glinting with a vicious light.

Seeing that, Jin Seong-un reaffirmed to himself that he should avoid using the Blood-Bare Hands Art whenever possible.

While the Martial Gods each voiced their opinions—

The Merchant King clicked his tongue and interrupted.

"You’re all so crude. This is why those born as martial artists are no good. Isn’t that right, Seong-un?"

Jin Seong-un nodded.

The Merchant King, who had once risen from a humble waiter to create the greatest trading company under heaven and become the foremost martial artist of his time, shared a certain understanding with Jin Seong-un.

"Seong-un has spent his life building up the Seong-un Inn. Naturally, he wants to run it peacefully. But if you suddenly kill everyone in the Prosperity Association, who will fill the void?"

The other Martial Gods pondered.

But they couldn’t come up with an answer easily.

As if expecting this, the Merchant King continued.

"Worse people will come."

"Then we just kill them again."

"Then even worse people will come."

"……."

The Merchant King saw the situation clearly.

This wasn’t simply a matter of killing or not killing.

If they were going to act, it would be best to find a way that would make life as easy as possible for Seong-un going forward while also gaining benefits.

"Seong-un, the best option is to wipe out the Prosperity Association as the others say, and then you leave. With your skills, you could easily do it. But you can’t. Do you know why?"

"Because the Martial Gods are staying at Seong-un Inn."

"Exactly. You have to remain here at Seong-un Inn no matter what. So, in the place of the destroyed Prosperity Association, you’ll need to seat people who will benefit you. That means you’ve chosen the Jingzhou Merchants’ Association, haven’t you?"

"Yes, that’s right."

Of course, there was no guarantee they would help.

No matter how large or righteously aligned the Jingzhou Merchants’ Association was, behind the Prosperity Association stood the massive Black Path group, the Southern Black Lotus.

To the Jingzhou Merchants’ Association, it was a daunting proposal.

But the one giving him advice now was none other than the Merchant King.

A man whose name was carved deepest in history not only for his martial prowess but for his mastery of commerce.

"Want me to tell you a way to make it so the Jingzhou Merchants’ Association has no choice but to help you?"

Jin Seong-un’s eyes shone brightly for once.

As expected, the Merchant King was the answer.

"I’ll explain it just once, so listen well."

The Merchant King grinned and began his explanation.

Suddenly, Jin Seong-un’s eyes widened in rare surprise.

It had been five days since Seong-un Inn closed its doors.

The Chairman of the Prosperity Association was receiving a report from his subordinates.

"Nothing unusual during today’s patrol, sir. That waiter hasn’t shown up either."

The Chairman leaned back in his chair with a visibly more relaxed expression.

"So he ran away after all."

It was the natural outcome.

Here in Yichang, the Prosperity Association was absolute.

Even the head constable of the local authorities would bow his head before them, and every merchant packed into the streets was an eye and ear for the Prosperity Association.

"We can’t let him live."

"What should we do?"

"The Hongho Seven Ghosts should be arriving soon. Once they do, give them the waiter’s description and have them hunt him down and kill him…"

Just then—

Thud!

A heavy crash echoed from outside the office.

The Chairman of the Prosperity Association narrowed his eyes and looked toward the door.

"What is it?"

"Sounds like the men are training a bit too hard. I’ll tell them to restrain themselves."

"Leave it. What good would it do to tell martial artists to hold back on their training?"

Though called the Prosperity Association, it was in truth a Black Path faction.

For now, they were a force that bolstered Jo Tae-ho’s power, and when the inevitable competition among his brothers began, these were the martial artists who would draw their blades and fight alongside him.

If they were training hard of their own accord, Jo Tae-ho could only be pleased.

"As I was saying, tell the Hongho Seven Ghosts to bring him in, but if he resists too much, taking a limb or two—"

BOOOOOM!

A thunderous explosion.

The Chairman shot to his feet.

The martial artists who had been delivering the report also hurriedly drew their swords and stared toward the door.

Shouts of the Prosperity Association’s martial artists.

Wretched screams.

Another explosion followed.

Someone was coming. Breaking through a hundred martial artists and heading straight here.

"Go check."

At the Chairman’s order, one martial artist hesitated for a moment before stepping toward the door—

CRAAASH!

The iron door tore apart like paper, and a man stepped through.

The corner of the Chairman’s mouth twitched strangely.

A man who looked to be barely in his early twenties.

His face showed little emotion, but the aura rising from his body was so ominous and dangerous it made the skin tingle.

In both of his hands—dangling limply—were two of the Prosperity Association’s executives, and a reddish energy swirled around his grip.

There was no need to confirm his features to guess his identity.

"……Waiter."

Before the man who could be called the king of Yichang—

The waiter of Seong-un Inn had come.