Murim Troubleshooter Dan Mujin

Chapter 70: Your Son

Behind the main building of the Murim Alliance—an unexpectedly modest structure for a leader’s office.

The not-so-large room was filled tightly with more than ten martial artists summoned urgently.

Representatives or proxies of each sect surrounded the round table with uninterested expressions.

These few middle-aged and older individuals were the influential figures who decided the major affairs of the orthodox Murim.

And they were currently engaged in a discussion on a particular topic.

“Blood Cult, it’s been a long time since I even heard that name.”

“That suspicious fellow who impersonated the Diamond Fist—did we end up letting him slip away?”

Martial artists expressed skepticism at the sudden reappearance of those who had vanished for decades after suffering a devastating blow during the righteous blood war.

Since there had been multiple instances where traces or leads on the Blood Cult ended up fruitless, the atmosphere urged caution.

“He got away, but we have physical evidence. This acupuncture needle here.”

She produced a needle, once used to identify like-minded individuals of the Blood Cult, which had now completely discolored after examining a corpse.

Originally a tool of the Blood Cult, it had been repurposed for tracking them after their downfall.

“Hmm, even if it’s evidence, isn’t it just a rotten corpse with an old needle stuck in it?”

“It’s too ambiguous to be conclusive. Would’ve been better if we’d actually caught that runaway.”

Despite the claims, sect leaders and elders shook their heads, unconvinced.

Even Shaolin’s representatives repeatedly cleared their throats uncomfortably every time the Diamond Fist was mentioned.

The meeting stagnated, lost in dull arguments going nowhere.

At that, I leaned back against the chair, bored.

I thought I was called as a witness to say something, but at this rate, there wouldn’t be a moment to chime in.

“So the bastard who shattered my staff was from the Blood Cult, huh.”

A damn tough one. No wonder he never confessed even when I smashed his groin.

I lifted the Dog-Beating Staff, now with its front blown off, transformed into the Hell-Piercing Demon-Slaying Staff.

Poor thing—after meeting the wrong guy, the symbol of the Later Dog Sect was now halved.

“Even if I water it, it won’t grow back, will it?”

Murim was said to have all sorts of strange divine weapons. Still, I inspected the staff closely, just in case.

“You serious? Sometimes you’re just plain weird.”

Tang Yeo-hye, having overheard my muttering, threw me a look full of pity.

She, too, was dragged in as a witness and seemed equally bored, given her petty jab.

“But what are you doing behind my back?”

I asked her, as she hid behind me like Ilhong.

Looking closely, the most suspicious one might be Tang Yeo-hye herself.

“It’s because of that person. Just let me borrow your back for a bit.”

She hid herself again, pointing at the elder from the Tang Clan who was glaring from across the table.

Judging by how she avoided eye contact, she must’ve done something uncomfortable in her clan before coming here.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing much.”

Clearly, she did something.

I raised an eyebrow and gave her a suspicious look.

“Then why hide? You’re from the same Tang Clan.”

“Well, it’s because… I kinda left the clan without telling anyone.”

No wonder she was always short on travel expenses and kept tagging along with others.

“Ah, so you ran away from home?”

“What do you mean ran away! I’m a full-grown adult! It’s not running away—it’s just migrating for work!”

She spouted excuses much like Hwang Geolgae.

Trying to justify leaving home as if the two were completely different things.

“Same difference.”

“You little—wanna taste something bitter in your next meal?”

I wished she’d stop putting weird stuff in people’s food.

Some claimed it was her way of showing affection, but how could anyone see that choking bitterness mid-meal as goodwill?

‘Tsk tsk, no wonder she’s called a poison mutt among her peers and has no friends.’

I shook my head and muttered internally.

“You brat, you trying to die again?!”

Apparently, she heard that too.

Her voice came out loud enough that a few sect leaders nearby glanced at us curiously.

“…Ahem, sorry. Please continue.”

She sheepishly hid behind me again.

Her short height made it easy to cover her.

“No evidence? A martial artist trained in Shaolin’s orthodox martial arts unleashed dozens of lethal techniques! There’s no way that’s normal, is there? Don’t you think so, Dan Mujin?”

Seeing the lukewarm reactions from the elders, Murong Cheonghye turned to me, seeking support with her eyes.

“Well, yeah. He was vicious, like a demonic fiend. No way he looked like a monk.”

“Ahem!”

The Shaolin martial artists looked visibly displeased at my repeated mention of Hyesung.

But facts were facts—nothing to do about it.

On top of that, the guy reeked of malice, having accumulated serious Killing Karma. Even the stench was unbearable.

But since that was only detectable by me, it wouldn’t count as evidence.

So I shared the disturbing rumors Ilhong heard at the Black Spot, including sightings of a suspicious group and purchases of poison pellets.

“As you’ve heard, the Blood Cult wouldn’t just loiter around the Murim Alliance’s biggest event venue without reason. Therefore, Alliance Leader, I urge you to act swiftly, considering these points.”

Tang Yeo-hye’s bold direct appeal made Vice Captain Jeok Unyeop rub his aching forehead.

And everyone’s attention turned toward Sect Leader Cheongungeom.

As Murong Cheonghye had said, the final decision rested with the Murim Alliance Leader.

“Hmm, Blood Cult.”

The Alliance Leader fiddled with his blue scabbard, as if a blue dragon had landed upon it.

He closed his eyes briefly, perhaps recalling the righteous blood war he had fought long ago as the Clan Head of the Namgung Clan.

“If those bastards have truly resurfaced, wouldn’t they bear strong resentment toward the orthodox Murim who drove them to ruin?”

And right now, with so many righteous martial artists gathered for the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament, there’d be no better time to spring a trap.

The Alliance Leader, stroking his white beard, looked at the discolored needle with a complex expression.

After exchanging a glance with Murong Cheonghye’s pleading eyes, he finally opened his mouth with resolution.

“I cannot overlook the safety of my fellow murim. Therefore, this Dragon-Phoenix Tournament shall be suspended until the culprits are apprehended—”

“What nonsense is this?!”

A voice shouted in furious protest, beard quivering.

It was Murong Cheon, who believed without a doubt that his second son would win the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament.

The Alliance Leader scratched his cheek awkwardly, as if he had expected such a reaction.

“This is absurd! Do you have any idea how many people gathered to watch this Dragon-Phoenix Tournament? There’s a massive betting pool, and the martial duels are reaching their climax—how can you suddenly halt it?!”

His booming voice shook the chamber multiple times.

A roar so forceful, it would flatten any logic or evidence brought forward.

“Alliance Leader! Isn’t it a coincidence that your children aren’t participating this time? Are you doing this because you’re trying to ruin it now that my son’s victory seems certain?!”

“…Murong Clan Head, surely you don’t believe that. I’m merely considering the safety of the many.”

“If that’s the case, then continue, Alliance Leader. With so many martial artists of high-level martial arts gathered here, does it make any sense to cancel the greatest event of the Righteous Sect out of fear of the Blood Cult?”

Indeed, the current orthodox forces assembled in Shaanxi were strong enough to wage a righteous war immediately without lacking anything.

If we had known nothing, maybe. But now that we did, Murong Cheon argued that each sect could simply dispatch their elites to reinforce the defense.

“Hmm.”

The Alliance Leader stroked his beard repeatedly in deep thought. Then Murong Cheonghye stepped forward and added a direct remark.

“But Alliance Leader, even if we strengthen defenses, these people use unpredictable evil arts. We can’t even guess what method they might use to enact their schemes.”

The prodigies were the future and foundation of the Righteous Sect. If they were to suffer harm all at once due to some scheme, it would shake the future of the orthodox Murim.

“And besides, they already know our forces well. The fact that they still plan to proceed with their scheme—shouldn’t we focus more on protecting lives than hosting a tournament?”

That, too, was a valid point.

Several sect leaders and elders nodded in agreement.

“…Cheonghye, what is the meaning of this?”

But that rebuttal seemed to greatly irritate Clan Head Murong Cheon.

He glared at Murong Cheonghye with a face filled with cold anger.

“Why are you blocking your own family’s path forward?”

“It’s not like that. If their blades were to turn not toward martial artists but toward ordinary civilians, it could lead to something horrifying…”

“So what? If we can annihilate the Blood Cult this time, isn’t that a price worth paying?”

“……”

A price worth paying, he says. Had he also ordered her to cut me off in the same manner?

Still the same repulsive man.

“You’ve always favored the third child and discriminated against Murong Hui. Are you doing this because of that?”

“N-no, I’m simply doing my duty as Vice Captain of the Demon-Slaying Unit…”

Murong Cheonghye shook her head violently in denial.

“Cheonghye, are you a person of the Murong Clan or of the Murim Alliance?”

“…I belong to the Murong Clan.”

Such were the times. A time when a parent’s authority was like the heavens and family came before all else.

Therefore, even if one belonged to the Murim Alliance, betraying their own clan was close to impossible.

Murong Cheon was fully aware of this and was using the authority of the clan head to silence Murong Cheonghye’s opinion.

All of this, just to push his second son to win the tournament.

“I’ve tolerated this deviation until now considering your emotional turmoil, but I cannot any longer.”

“B-but still!”

It was a scene I had seen many times. No, one I had personally experienced. Maybe that’s why I understood exactly how Murong Cheonghye felt now.

In a situation that made curses naturally rise to my lips, I muttered in a voice as tiny as an ant’s.

“Geez, these old men… nothing but greed.”

One old man I knew threw away his home, wealth, and power to live like a loafer on the streets.

Why was this guy still clinging like that?

“……”

Then, sensing a strange silence that suddenly fell, I lifted my head to find everyone quietly staring at me.

“…Huh?”

“You crazy bastard, they’re all high-level martial artists here. They can hear everything.”

Tang Yeo-hye poked my side with a flustered voice.

Ah, damn it, right.

“What an impudent brat…”

From afar, Murong Cheon glared at me with a face flushed red and purple as if ready to devour me.

Ah, bloody hell.

“Hey, I, known as the Poison Mutt, acknowledge it. You’re truly insane.”

Tang Yeo-hye, famous for being socially ostracized even among the mainstream Righteous Sect, patted my back and acknowledged me as an extraordinary guy.

But I didn’t feel happy at all.

Probably because of a certain middle-aged man staring daggers at me.

“Captain, it was fun while it lasted.”

A former runaway ninja shook his head, saying he didn’t want to become enemies with the Murong Clan, the second most powerful after the Namgung Clan.

Step. Step.

Murong Cheon, with eyes blazing, walked right up to me and looked down silently.

It was the kind of gaze that seemed to awaken Murong Cheongjin’s trauma within me. My hands and feet curled up instinctively.

“So, what exactly did you mean by that?”

But I wasn’t the guy who lived like a doormat anymore.

Besides, hadn’t I already died once? There was nothing left to fear.

“What do you mean, what did I mean?”

So I stood up, meeting his gaze head-on.