Murim Troubleshooter Dan Mujin

Chapter 49: The Usual Scene at the Inn

“I heard someone was getting beat up like a dog at the training ground... Turns out it was you, Boss.”

Apparently, even the escorts who had come to train turned back after seeing the brutal beating, like he’d run into a mortal enemy.

Sure, it worked like a charm on Heaven-Slaying Star, but was this kind of brainless training method really legitimate?

In the martial arts novels, master and disciple would support and guide each other, building a deep bond as they honed their skills through constant polishing.

But us? We were too busy hurling curses, shouting, and lunging at each other like we meant to kill.

“Boss, should we postpone our promise with the kids?”

I must have looked in pretty bad shape from the outside.

Ilhong reached out, touching my swollen and bruised cheek, and asked.

“It’s fine, just go. If we cancel, how disappointed do you think they’ll be?”

It’s not like we live in an age with lots of entertainment. Culinary pleasures take up a huge part of life’s enjoyment.

If things fizzled out, they’d be as heartbroken as kids whose dad forgot the chicken he promised and came home empty-handed.

Well, I wouldn’t know that feeling myself though.

Tap. Tap.

My whole body ached, but I walked, leaning on the long Dog-Beating Staff like a cane.

“Boss, what’s with that staff?”

It was the one Hwang Geolgae had kicked over to me. It didn’t look like much, but it was surprisingly sturdy, and its length and balance made it perfect for swinging.

“I’ve been learning a new martial art lately. It’s a bizarre staff technique—every single technique chant includes the word ‘dog’.”

Pressure-Shoulder Dog-Back, Kick-Dog-Toward-Heaven, Staff-Lift-Mangy-Dog, and so on.

It had ridiculous chants like flinging dogs into the sky, smacking their butts, or techniques that claimed you wouldn’t be scared even if surrounded. Reading the chants didn’t even make me laugh anymore.

“A staff technique with the word ‘dog’ in every chant...? Boss, are you training in the Dog-Beating Staff Technique said to be reserved only for the successor of the Dragon Head Sect Leader?”

Ilhong asked, eyes wide in disbelief.

“...What? This is something only the successor can learn?”

I mean, nothing like that was mentioned in the martial arts novel I read. It was just briefly mentioned in passing.

“Yes, it’s the Beggars’ Union’s miraculous ultimate technique and exclusive secret transmission. There’s no manual, so only the Dragon Head Sect Leader can teach it by reciting the chants.”

Ilhong, who seemed to know everything, explained while I stroked my chin with a puzzled face.

“This beating-the-dog stick technique...?”

“I’m telling you, yes!”

Well I’ll be damned. No wonder he pulled out every ridiculous bit of flair before teaching it.

So there was a hidden backstory like that.

Now I understood why the staff strikes got fiercer every time I called it a dog-beating technique.

“Strange, right? Even though he always acted rough and gruff, maybe deep down he acknowledged your capabilities, Boss.”

Really? Did he actually recognize me, Heaven-Slaying Star, as his formal disciple? Until now, it was always just a nominal title—treated like a ticking time bomb behind the scenes.

“Who knows, I still can’t figure that guy out.”

Still, a good thing is a good thing. Since he was teaching me martial arts, I decided not to overthink it.

You can read ten fathoms into water, but not even one into a man’s heart. There’s no way I could know what he was thinking.

What I could read were the murderous intent and accumulated Killing Karma people harbored.

“Dan Mujin, Boss!”

A familiar voice tickled my ears.

A big young man came running over from afar, laughing heartily.

“Come on, that Boss title is old news. The gang’s been disbanded for ages.”

“Hehe, strong and rich? Still the Boss in my book!”

That close-cropped head. He must have been eating well and working hard—Ochil looked even more solidly built.

“And that Ilhong brat still calls you Boss. As a former Second-in-Command, I can’t back down!”

Ilhong had given up correcting it. Once a Boss, always a Boss—that’s how obsessively he clung to it.

“Why are you the Second-in-Command, Ochil hyung? Anyone can see I was always the one giving advice by your side.”

Ilhong glared at him like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Hmph, don’t make me laugh. You were more like a Successor of the Hao Sect. The right-hand man of the leader should have strength.”

“No, he should have knowledge.”

“And anyone who once deserted doesn’t even deserve to be Second-in-Command.”

“...Ahem.”

Even though we hadn’t seen each other in a while, Ilhong and Ochil bickered just like always.

Come to think of it, Ilhong did have a desertion record.

But ever since I saved him despite nearly getting a hole in my belly, he’d stuck by my side like glue.

“Hey, it was weird back then, but now it’s even weirder. You sure you’re a guy? Why do you keep getting prettier?”

He’d built some lean muscle through training, but his limbs were still slim.

After half a year and a long escort trip, Ilhong now even exuded a feminine aura through his Human-skin Mask.

What if he started seducing other men without realizing it, pretending to be a guy?

“Oh, of course.”

And now he was mimicking my tone when lying.

Was it because he grew up watching and learning from me nearby?

Then I ought to say he turned out great.

“By the way, who beat you up to make your face look like that, Boss?”

Looking at my panda-like bruised face, Ochil asked.

“There’s a beggar.”

“A beggar dared...! Who is it, Boss? I’ll lend you my strength. Let’s go get revenge!”

As expected of a former subordinate—he was reliable.

“There’s this guy, Hwang Noya. Wanna go beat him up with me?”

“...On second thought, Boss is pretty sturdy, so this much is probably nothing.”

He must’ve heard rumors of my steady use of Sword Qi and my performance on the last escort trip. Ochil looked flustered as he tried to talk his way out.

I chuckled and asked where the rest of the kids were.

Ochil pointed toward the manor entrance, where a few familiar faces were already excited and jumping.

“Boss! Long time no see!”

“You’re looking great! Heard you picked up some martial arts too!”

“Thanks to you, I don’t even need to beg anymore! Thank you!”

They walked toward me, their shoulders practically dancing.

Each one had a grin stretched from ear to ear.

“You punks.”

It was good to see their faces again. We’d once huddled under a tent in a stinking alley, calling it home, sharing bowls of Galjeotang filled with who-knows-what.

We’d even robbed some foul-tempered rich folks together.

It hadn’t been long, and our first meeting was the worst, but... these were the first friends I’d made since coming to this Murim.

“Been a while. You guys doing alright?”

“Hey, what do you want to eat? Name it all.”

At the manor entrance, a confident young man called out to a group of kids.

“Wheat noodles!”

“Meat dumplings!”

“Fried rice!”

Clicking his tongue like it wasn’t enough, he held up a gleaming silver coin high into the air.

“Ah, screw it! I’m in the mood! Order everything you want!”

"Uwaaa!"

"Gold! It's gold!"

"Boss is the best!"

The atmosphere among the children flared up like a blaze.

The young man led them out, looking like he was about to storm somewhere.

"Follow me!"

"Ooooh!"

And just like that, Dan Mujin and his gang thundered off and vanished.

From a nearby pavilion, Hwang Geolgae silently observed the scene with his distinctive piercing gaze, then let out a dumbfounded chuckle.

"What a guy…"

Truly an inscrutable fellow.

He always seemed to live like a stubborn mule, yet sometimes he pulled things like that.

Now that he thought about it, that guy only acted like a madman when the other party was also insane.

Wait a minute, didn’t that mean he was admitting he was a madman himself?

"Ahem ahem."

Well, one thing was certain—he had picked up quite the amusing character in his twilight years.

He hadn’t fully acknowledged him yet.

He had seen enough to believe the boy wasn’t worthless, especially considering the way he threw himself in harm’s way for others.

Still, a lingering sense of unease wouldn’t leave him.

But perhaps it was fine to at least keep him as a candidate, if not an official successor.

If it was that boy, he might just be able to break free from the shackle of the Heaven-Slaying Star.

No, not just break free—he might cut the curse off at his generation entirely, like how the enlightened masters cut the cycle of reincarnation at the end of their ascetic paths.

So that the Heaven-Slaying Star would never appear again.

Wouldn't that be a great blessing for the Murim?

He could potentially save tens or even hundreds of thousands who would otherwise perish every time that fate arose.

Perhaps even this had been arranged by the Divine Wind Daoist. Fate may have pulled that boy toward him.

"Chief Steward Jin, could you deliver a letter for me?"

Hwang Geolgae stroked his long beard as he spoke.

"A letter? To where, Hwang Noya?"

"Send it to Kaifeng."

Even as an irresponsible Sect Leader, he ought to give some notice.

Hwang Geolgae silently fiddled with his knot of mnemonic formulas.

Light steps toward the inn.

"Handsome young master over there! Please spare some change for this poor beggar!"

A few young beggars from Beijing, seeing the relaxed gait, ran up begging for alms.

"Brats, how’d you even know I’m handsome."

Beijing was a tough place to beg, so the beggar kids were often starving.

Since I was taking the kids out to do good deeds and had a full purse, I decided to hand out a few coins.

"Thank you, young master!"

I myself was a beggar not too long ago. If someone had told me to give handouts back then, I would’ve asked if they were crazy.

I guess that’s why they say kindness comes from surplus and ease. In that sense, today, I was Saint Dan Mujin himself.

"Hic… You’ll be blessed!"

"I’ll never forget this grace!"

Even this kind act stirred a strange tickle around my Dantian.

Since I’d handed over my hard-earned money without expecting anything in return, I had, by my own standards, certainly accumulated some serious Good Karma.

‘Kill (殺)!’

And then came that furious red energy, clearly disgusted by my continued accumulation of Good Karma.

When I ignored him even after drawing something on the ground, he began writing characters in midair with that distinct crimson energy.

‘Kill (殺)!’

‘Kill (殺)!’

‘Kill (殺)!’

Just seeing that scrawled repeatedly in the air, it looked like some magic calligraphy scroll.

That was the extent of my thoughts on it. I continued to ignore it entirely. After all, all that guy could do was write stuff like that.

"What are you going to do? What can you even do?"

Thus, bickering in childish fashion with the Heaven-Slaying Star, I headed with the kids toward the entrance of the inn.

We stormed in and looked around—the inn was bustling, just in time for lunch.

With the savory scent of grilled meat in the air, the kids’ eyes were already rolling back and they started drooling.

Then the waiter came out to greet us, the group guests.

"What the—this beggar looks like he got beat up."

Maybe because I’d been thoroughly thrashed by Hwang Geolgae earlier, I didn’t look much like a paying customer.

"I’m no beggar. I’m a wanderer. See here."

Can’t let my pride fall in front of the kids.

I silently presented my Wanderers' Guild-issued token.

"Ah, you’re with the Guild... Hmm? That’s the lowest rank, though. Then you're no different, really."

You son of a—

I came here to spend some money after a long while, and now I couldn’t even save face.

So this time, I opened my coin pouch wide, letting the shine of silver and gold speak for itself.

"Ooooh! My lord! Right this way to the finest seat!"

Only then did the waiter from Ohho Inn greet us with enthusiastic hospitality.

There was something I’d always wanted to say upon entering an inn.

"Waiter! Everything from here to there—bring it all out!"

With those words, a feast worthy of kings filled the table.

From suan ni bai rou—thinly sliced pork dressed in a signature garlic sauce—to jingjiang rousi soaked in rich marinade.

Of course, all kinds of dumplings stuffed with delightful fillings, and at last, the tender Dongpo Pork I hadn’t gotten to eat because I was kidnapped—everything overwhelmed our eyes and noses in dazzling brilliance.

"Ah, finally, I get to eat this."

Just as I was about to take a bite of that tender, aromatic Dongpo Pork, boiled to perfection—

CRASH—!

With the sound of something shattering, a person came crashing down from the third floor of the inn.