The Scent Of People (3)

The night, which had been dazzling for some, and dull for others, had passed.

With the preliminaries finally over, screens were drawn over every arena except the central dueling stage.

And now, a man stepped onto the central stage.

“Esteemed guests of the Kangho, welcome to the Radiant Sword Festival. I am Mun Jung, Branch Leader of the Heavenly Will Alliance’s Sichuan Branch.”

Thunderous cheers broke out at once.

Mun Jung, the Sichuan Branch Leader, was a rare master who had served at the Heavenly Will Alliance’s Central Headquarters, a genius who excelled not only in martial arts but also in administration and law.

“Mun Jung.”

“You do not know him?”

“Of course I do. Though, I don’t know what kind of person he is.”

“He is a remarkable man. He once served as Southern Chief Adjudicator of the Heavenly Will Alliance’s Ash Wolf Bureau.”

“Chief Adjudicator is like a Captain in the White Wolf Bureau, yes?”

“Yes. It’s third by rank on paper.”

“A heavyweight then.”

“By title the Sichuan Branch Leader outranks the Gray Wolf Bureau Chief. Though whether he holds the real power is another matter.”

“You know quite a bit.”

“This is common knowledge. I am more surprised at you, Patriarch. Anyone with a little interest in the world would know.”

“I had no interest in the world. Not until when I died.”

“…Do your hands itch for the hammer again?”

“Not yet.”

The crowd was electric. It was not only the rare sight of a high official, but the expectation of watching true masters cross blades.

Sensing it, Mun Jung smiled.

“A dull man’s long greeting moves no one. The Sichuan Branch feels great honor in hosting the Radiant Sword Festival, yet we seek no praise or applause.”

He raised the hand holding his fan high.

“From this moment, the main rounds begin.”

“Waaah!”

With a short, plain address, the main rounds began at once.

Watching from a good distance, Jin-hyeon’s eyes gleamed.

Leaving the stage, Mun Jung ascended a building set back from the arena. On its open second floor sat some twenty people.

Anyone could tell those were special seats. Everyone sitting there was either a high-ranking power holder or a guest from a prestigious house.

‘Impressive.’

Even from a distance, he could feel the restrained aura leaking out from that special section.

Each one of them kept their Qi tightly reined, yet their realm does not disappear. With a beast’s sense, Jin-hyeon knew each of them was no ordinary master.

“There are empty seats.”

Several places were vacant. He could guess whose they were.

“The Divine Spear House Master. The Abundant Prosperity Guild Master. And the Black Bamboo Fort’s Second Fort Master.”

“Likely.”

“Few are actually from the Branch. More than half are nobles from other regions.”

“I see.”

Then someone approached him, dressed like a Sichuan Branch officer.

“Are you Great Hero Jin-hyeon?”

“I’m no great hero, but I am Jin-hyeon.”

“I am the Branch Leader’s aide. Please, come to the Viewing Terrace.”

He pointed to the special seats where the Branch Leader and the elite sat.

Jin-hyeon tilted his head.

“You would have me sit there?”

The man looked surprised instead.

“Of course. You are here as the White Sword Seol Clan’s Lady Seol So-ha’s responsible party, are you not?”

“There’s no need to dress it up as ‘responsible party.’”

“You are with the Seol Clan. The seat is proper. Please follow me.”

So they honored him as one tied to the Eight Martial Houses.

Jin-hyeon gave a brief smile and spoke to Han Cheol-sang.

“I will go.”

“I thought your nature would refuse.”

“It’s a good chance.”

He’s up to something yet again.

Han never thought he moved without meaning.

“Go on. I will watch with Lady Im here.”

Im Yeo-wol bowed silently.

Leaving them and following the aide, he saw two fighters step up for the first bout.

On the terrace, several eyes flicked his way.

He gave no one a glance and took an empty seat, the far corner of the third and last row where only one man sat.

It was the last row, but it was high up, so the arena lay clear below. He watched the two onstage at ease.

As the cheers washed over and all eyes went to the two who had finished their bows.

“Please sit here for a moment. I have someone to see.”

Mun Jung rose from the front center and sat beside Jin-hyeon.

Chiling!

Aside from a few, no one cared. The two on the arena finally clashed.

“Whew. I am tired. Having worked through the night, my body aches. It seems that I have aged.”

“…”

“Well then. Are you enjoying the festival?”

Jin-hyeon’s eyes deepened.

‘So he is the one who called me.’

He spoke first as if they were old acquaintances. One might think they had shared drinks.

“I am.”

“Good. And it is an honor. I wished to meet the youth who had been stirring up Sichuan.”

He closed his mouth before answering.

Mun Jung’s voice was clear at his ear, yet his lips barely moved.

‘Skillful.’

He had sealed the sound around them so no one else could hear.

It was beyond shaping the voice for a private whisper. By difficulty alone it surpassed secret sound transmission.

Jin-hyeon’s internal energy stirred.

“The honor is mine, to meet Sichuan’s de facto ruler.”

Unlike Mun Jung, he spoke with a near-whispering transmission.

Mun Jung’s eyes glinted.

“Nonsense. I do not rule Sichuan.”

“Of course.”

“?”

“But people think you do.”

Mun Jung looked at him as if to say, is that so.

It was a pointed remark. It was by no means something that could be easily said on a first meeting to the Branch Leader’s face.

“How people regard me is outside my concern. I simply do my work.”

“You are lying.”

“Lying?”

“If you had done your work, would the corruption have broken out?”

The root lies with you, does it not?

To Mun Jung it should have been offensive, yet his face showed no displeasure.

“You are correct. Had I done my duty, that would not have happened. I reflect on it often.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Mm?”

“Many talk about reflecting. Few truly do.”

“…”

“A Branch Leader has no reason to lie to a wanderer. So it is fortunate.”

His mouth lifted slightly. The smile was hard to read.

“Many lace their words with barbs. Most are ruined by their tongues. Are you one of them, Great Hero Jin?”

“I do not worry about ruin. If needed I load spears and blades, not barbs.”

“You think such words are needed for me.”

“Rather than need, it’s more akin to drawing a hard line.”

“A hard line.”

“You summoned me to this place and grew friendly at once, though we have never met. A wanderer who senses an unknown intent cannot help but prod back.”

Mun Jung’s smile deepened.

“You are more straightforward than I heard.”

Jin-hyeon smiled in return.

“Which is why I am often called rude.”

“Manners and worth are hard to judge in a single look.”

It was unclear if he spoke of Jin-hyeon or himself. With that line, Jin-hyeon ranked him a little higher.

He did not seem to be suppressing anger, and he carried himself with considerable ease. Whatever was going on in his head, at the very least his words felt sincere.

‘Interesting.’

Jin-hyeon looked back to the arena.

“You would do well to see how Sichuan views you. It is said public office is rarely free of the public eye.”

“That is true.”

Mun Jung sighed suddenly.

“Thus my worry. There has been much disorder of late, and I have often failed to look the part.”

Jin-hyeon looked at him.

“Branch Leader.”

“Speak.”

“Why did you call me here?”

“Why, as the representative of one of the heirs of the Eight Martial Houses, it is only natural…”

“If you intend to dodge further, I will take my leave.”

Mun Jung’s eyes narrowed, as if to read him.

As Jin-hyeon took the armrest to rise without hesitation.

“I could not help but want to see you.”

“?”

“I worry what great thing you will stir in Sichuan next, and here you are as the Seol Clan’s representative. I could not waste the chance.”

His tone did not change, yet his voice eased. He was speaking the truth.

“Great thing…”

“Do not deny it. Whether good or ill, your deeds have shaken Sichuan.”

“I am no ‘Great Hero.’”

“Titles are small things. Words and deeds matter. In that regard you do not seem to be a swindler.”

“My conduct seems that decent to you?”

“Decent? Well, I’ll have to see about that. A swindler may be entangled in a great affair, yet rarely causes one. In that, chivalrous men and villains share a point. When they ride momentum, they can call an earthquake.”

He meant he did not yet know if he was chivalrous or wicked.

“So you called me to see what I am.”

“Yes.”

“More precisely, whether I am chivalrous or not, or a lucky swindler who stumbled into this.”

“I am certain you are no swindler. You are either chivalrous or a villain.”

“If you only meant to confirm this, you would settle for your subordinates’ reports.”

“!”

“If I am chivalrous, then what? If a villain, what then?”

Mun Jung stared in surprise, then smiled again.

It was cold as ice.

“You are a sharp one.”

“A beast is sensitive to its life and death.”

“Then I will tell you.”

Even the cold smile vanished. His handsome middle-aged face became that of a killer wearing a ghost mask.

“If chivalrous, I will beat you and make you heel. If a villain, I will kill you without a sound.”

“I do not know which is better.”

“Do you wish to die?”

Common words from his mouth carried dreadful weight.

“Better to fight to the death than be beaten and made a dog.”

His eyes twitched slightly.

Jin-hyeon’s face grew almost drowsy.

“Whatever the case, I did not expect to feel kinship with you.”

“Kinship?”

He spoke words ten times more terrifying than Mun Jung’s.

“If you turned out decent, I would end it after a few blows. If you were the kind of bastard who deserved death, I planned to make you unable to live or die.”