Chapter 1

“Welcome in!”

A man with a cold, hard set to his face walked in without a word and took the table by the window. He unhooked the blade at his waist and leaned it against the table at an angle. I froze for a second, then went over and asked as politely as I knew how.

“What can I get you?”
“Baijiu. And whatever goes with it — anything decent.”¹

I plucked the coin he flicked at me out of the air and took the order at a run.

“Yessir! Coming right up!”

Then I ducked into the kitchen and dropped my voice.

“Pops! It’s a murim warrior! A murim warrior!”²
“What? A murim warrior, here?”

Jin Pil-bu, master of the inn, had been dozing in his chair. He came awake all at once, poked his head out for a look, and grimaced.

“Ah, shit. Here we go again. It hasn’t even been that long since I cleaned up the last mess.”

The boss grumbled on under his breath.

“Look at the mood on him. Bristling with killing intent — he’s obviously out hunting for a fight.”
“…Still, maybe this time it’ll blow over?”

I clung to a tiny scrap of hope. The boss snorted.

“Wish for something you might actually get.”
“…Fair point.”

No way around it. Murim warriors were nothing but trouble. Sure, people looked up to them, but to a waiter living an ordinary little life they were walking disasters. They’d wreck the place, take responsibility for exactly none of it, and stroll off as if it had nothing to do with them.

“Haaah.”

And it wasn’t as though we could throw them out.

It’s a sad life. A sad, sad life.

“Guess I’d better cook it up and take it out.”

I slapped the boss’s hand away from the long-handled cast-iron pan we used for stir-frying.

“You looking to get stabbed? Out.”
“Tch.”

The boss smacked his lips and backed off.

— Shhhaak!

I took the pan by the handle and threw in the meat.

— Fwoosh— fwoosh— Flames leapt up and licked at the food.

“Damn. That kid can cook, I’ll give him that…”

Behind me I could hear the boss marveling as he watched.

— Shaak— shaak—

My hands moved in a dazzling blur and the dish took shape. A rich, savory smell spread through the inn. I plated what I’d knocked together, arranged it nicely, and carried it out with the baijiu.

“Here’s your food.”

— Glug, glug, glug. The murim warrior poured himself a cup and drank first, then picked up a bite of the food and put it in his mouth.

“Mm?”

His eyes widened a fraction.

“Hey. Waiter.”
“…You called, sir?”

My mind went into overdrive. Had he bitten down on a pebble? Was something undercooked? No, there was no way…

“Come here. Sit.”
“Is something wrong…?”
“Taste it yourself.”

The murim warrior picked up a piece of meat and held it out to me.

— Gulp.

I licked my parched lips once, then put the meat carefully in my mouth and chewed slowly, savoring it.

“Well?”
“…It’s good?”
“Right?”
“…?”
“The food is seriously good. Here, have a drink too.”
“Ah — yes. Thank you, sir.”

I’d been told I was a decent cook plenty of times. But a murim warrior sharing his food and pouring me a drink? That was a first.

“Kwaah—”
“Ho, the kid can drink too? Have another.”
“Yessir.”

I took the cup and knocked it back, shooting a look toward the kitchen to beg for help. The boss had been watching with a tense face, and he answered with a look and a flick of his hand that told me to play along. I gave a small nod and picked up the baijiu.

“This humble Lee will pour one for you, Great Hero.”
“Good.”

It felt like coaxing a tiger with its claws still sheathed. So I drank with the murim warrior and worked hard to keep him happy.

“So there I was, see? And I just grabbed the Alliance Leader by the cheek and—”
“Ohhh, that’s a Great Hero for you. Ain’t that somethin’.”

I sat there drinking with him, nodding along to his nonsense. How much time passed like that, I couldn’t say.

Do murim warriors just not get drunk?

Maybe they held their liquor better, too. My head was swimming and the man across from me was perfectly fine. A waiter not waiting on customers, sitting there drinking instead. Lucky there was nobody else in.

“Hmm…”

The murim warrior looked around the shop.

“I like this place. It’d be a shame to wreck it.”
“…Sorry?”

It was like ice water poured over my head. I snapped straight back to sober.

— Ting-a-ling.

Just then the clear little bell on the door rang out.

A customer.

I turned. A brute of a giant came swaggering in with a huge blade slung over his shoulder, scars all over him, the kind of man who made you shrink just looking at him.

A murim warrior!

A murim warrior had met a murim warrior. What happened next didn’t need spelling out.

The brutish giant grinned and spoke.

“Well, look who it is. If it isn’t the famous Cold Moon Wanderer.”

The murim warrior called the Cold Moon Wanderer showed no surprise, as though he’d been waiting for this. He rose from his seat, or seemed to, and the next thing I knew he was standing in front of the giant.

It was as if the middle of the motion had simply been cut away. The giant flinched.

“You bastard…”
“Let’s take it outside.”

The Cold Moon Wanderer said it with a slight smile.

“I’ve taken a liking to this inn. The food’s good, too.”

And so the two murim warriors walked out of the inn.

They say the best show on earth is a good fight. If that holds for an ordinary street scrap, what must a fight between murim warriors be?

I was scared. Curiosity won anyway.

“You brat. You’ll get yourself killed.”
“It’s fine. It’s not like they’re sneaking off to fight in some Daoist temple. They’re going at it right out in the open, in the street.”

I told the boss not to worry, brushed off his attempt to stop me, and eased my head out the window. The moment the two murim warriors appeared, the passersby caught the mood and edged back out of the way.

The tension drew tight.

“Hrrraaah!”

The giant closed the distance, swinging that huge blade. The Cold Moon Wanderer hadn’t even drawn his sword. Unbelievably fast, for a man that size.

“Kyaaah!”

In an instant the blade came down over the Cold Moon Wanderer, and screams went up from the onlookers. The next moment, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

— Ka-thud-crash!

The one sprawled on the ground was the big murim warrior. I hadn’t even seen how it happened. The Cold Moon Wanderer’s form had just seemed to blur, and then it was done.

“What… the hell?”

To the big murim warrior lying there with that dazed look on his face,

the Cold Moon Wanderer, sword still undrawn, looked down and said:

“Care to continue?”

That was when it happened.

“Vice-Chief!”

A crowd of black-path thugs with blades at their hips came pouring in. The big murim warrior, apparently the Vice-Chief, went red, then purple, then shot to his feet and shouted:

“You! How dare you ambush me like a coward!”
“Huh?”
“Get him!”

At the order, the thugs swarmed him.

“Yikes.”

Even that oh-so-mighty murim warrior couldn’t do much about sheer numbers, I supposed. The Cold Moon Wanderer turned on his heel at once and sprinted off down the street.

“He’s running!”
“After him!”

The thugs went thundering after him.

“…”

It felt like a typhoon had blown through. Thankfully our inn had come out of it intact. Not a table, not so much as a single bowl broken.

“Phew—”

The boss and I had been watching from inside with our shoulders up around our ears, and we let the breath out together.

“We got through it.”
“Thank goodness.”

So there were decent murim warriors after all? I felt like I’d laid eyes on a divine beast out of legend.

---

— Ting-a-ling.

“Welcome.”
“Gwang-seon, can you do the stir-fried bok choy?”³
“Of course.”
“Come on, get in here. I’m telling you, the waiter at this place cooks like a dream.”

As evening came on, customers drifted in one by one.

“Well, well. Looks like I’ll just have to step in.”

I swatted the boss’s hand away as it crept toward the cast-iron pan and got to work.

“Boss, go take water out to the customers.”
“Tch…”

Meat and vegetables danced across the oiled iron.

“All right, food’s up. Enjoy.”
“Go on, try it. I’m telling you, this kid Gwang-seon can flat-out cook.”
“Oh, please. How good could it possibly— mm? Mmm?”
“See? What did I tell you?”

We worked through the rush,

and then it was about closing time.

“Another day gotten through safe.”

I muttered it while wiping down a table. A satisfied smile spread across my face.

If every day were like today, I’d have nothing left to wish for.

— Ting-a-ling.

Just then the door opened.

“Ah, sir, we’re closed for the—”

I didn’t get to finish, because a pack of vicious-looking men came piling in. Startled, I called out to the boss, who was tidying up the kitchen.

“Pops! Pops!”

The boss came out rubbing his hands, greeting them with a cringing smile.

“Heh heh — Great Heroes. What can I do for you?”

They were Black Dog Gang men, based nearby. The big ones split to either side, and a fierce-looking woman stepped through.

“Master of the Peace Inn. Do you really not know why we’re here?”
“This month’s tribute— I mean, the protection fee — I believe we paid that last time…”
“Start.”

At a jerk of the woman’s chin the thugs went at the place all at once and started smashing it apart. Tables, chairs, all of it.

— Crack! Whump!

“W-wait, why are you doing this?!”
“Where do you think you’re putting those filthy hands?”

— Crash-bang!

“Oof!”

A rough shove sent the boss sprawling. My poor boss. It’s a hard world for an innkeeper.

“Are you all right?”

While I was helping him up,

our inn was being torn to pieces.

“Word is our Vice-Chief came here this afternoon. And that he was taken down by that man. You enjoy the Black Dog Gang’s protection and then stand by and watch like it’s nothing to do with you? Murim warriors don’t forget a debt — or a grudge. This is what that costs.”

I stared blankly at her, then muttered in a hollow voice:

“…All this over something that petty?”

The boss clapped a hand over my mouth in a panic, but it was already out. Her eyes flashed, vicious.

“…Petty? Did you just say petty?”

The boss dropped straight to his knees.

“Oh please, Great Hero. The boy talks nonsense sometimes. He fell out of a persimmon tree as a child, you see…”
“Get out here.”
“Oof!”

She strode over, took my throat in one hand, and lifted me slowly off the ground. I couldn’t breathe.

“Kh… kgh!”
“That’s right. You’re going to die over something exactly that petty.”

Just then one of the thugs came up to the leader and whispered something.

“…Hm.”

She weighed it for a moment. Then she simply threw me down.

“Kuh-hakh!”
“Count yourself lucky.”

And so all we could do was stand there and watch our furniture come apart. The thugs spat on the floor and poured back out the way they’d come.

“Oh no. What do we do, oh no…”

I looked at the boss, weeping bitterly, and at the wreck of our inn.

“…Pops.”

The boss pulled me into a tight hug and patted my back, his voice thick with tears.

“At least we’re alive. Gwang-seon. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“…”

Just as the boss was everything I had, I was everything he had. My fists clenched without my meaning them to.

Murim warriors scatter disaster wherever they go. It makes no difference whether they mean well or not. Powerless people like us just have to take it.

I hate murim warriors.

---

The next day.

— Ting-a-ling.

“Innkeeper. I’d like what I had yester— hm?”

It was the murim warrior from the day before. The kind murim warrior.

But yesterday had taught me that a kind murim warrior isn’t the same thing as a good one.

“…What in the world happened here?”

The murim warrior stood there dumbly, looking around the ruined inn.

This happened because of you!!!

I wanted to scream it, and couldn’t. That murim warrior could have killed me as easily as squashing an ant under his thumb. He’d killed the Vice-Chief, from what I’d heard, and hadn’t taken a scratch doing it, so he had to be a formidable master.

“…You really don’t know?”
“Did something happen?”

He blinked at me like an ox. He really didn’t know.

So I told him, sighing. How the Black Dog Gang had come in the day before, furious over the Vice-Chief’s death, and wrecked the place.

“Is that true?”

A chill came into the murim warrior’s eyes.

“…Cowardly wretches.”

And with that he took hold of his sword hilt. I grabbed him.

“Don’t.”

He looked at me as if he didn’t understand.

“Why? Are you telling me you forgive those ruffians?”
“That’s not it. You can kill them all, feel good about it, and ride off, Great Hero. We have to go on living here.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t leave any loose ends.”

I grabbed at him again. Then I went all the way down on my knees and caught hold of his trouser leg.

“…I’m begging you. Please, just pretend you never saw it, and go.”

It’s pathetic. But there’s nothing else for it. This is how a waiter with no power at all survives.

“Gwang-seon…”

I heard the boss’s sorrowful voice calling me from behind.

“…”

The murim warrior looked at me a long moment, then walked out of the inn without a word.

— Shhhhaaa—

It was raining outside. As I stood staring blankly out at the wet street, the boss came over and sat down beside me.

“Gwang-seon… I’m sorry.”
“What have you got to be sorry for, Pops? It’s those murim bastards who are in the wrong.”

---

The next day, word got around.

That the Black Dog Gang had fallen.

That crazy murim bastard actually went and did it!

I ran to the Black Dog Gang’s building and pushed through the crowd of onlookers to get close. And it was true. It was really, truly true. The Black Dog Gang had burned to the ground.

I was standing there gaping at the wreckage when I locked eyes with someone. Sparks flew from his eyes the instant I did.

“You…!”

Two days ago. He was one of the Black Dog Gang men who’d stormed into the inn. The one who’d whispered in his boss’s ear and stopped her from killing me. I never did learn what he said.

He shoved through the crowd and came striding at me.

“We spared you because you could cook, and this is how you repay us?”
“…What?”

My head went blank.

What the hell is this guy even talking about?

Why are these damned murim warriors all like this, doing whatever they please? Handing out favors as they please, calling in blood debts as they please. What did we ever do wrong?

What!!!

— Shhing.

He drew his blade and came after me. A sharp scream went up and the crowd surged back.

“I’ll kill you.”

I ran like a madman.

“Hah. Hah.”
“Stop right there!”

I can’t go back to the inn.

In this temper he’d kill my poor boss too.

Where, then?

The mountains.

If I hid in the mountains, I could at least keep my life. That single thought was all I ran on.

He kept coming, relentless.

“Hah. Hah.”

Somehow I’d made it deep into the mountains,

but he had no intention of giving up.

“Come here! Get back here!”

Stop and I die.

Running blind, I lost my footing.

“Waaaaagh!”

— Thud!

---

“Ngh… where is this?”

When I came to, I was looking at a landscape I didn’t recognize. Down in the steep ravine I’d fallen into lay a sight I’d never seen in my life.

“…There was a place like this?”

I walked slowly through the ravine. It looked like the ruins of some ancient civilization. I followed a staircase buried under weeds and vines up to what I took for an altar. On top of it lay a sickle-shaped object. I picked it up carefully.

“What… is this?”

That was when it happened.

“Found you!”

I turned around, and there he was, glaring at me with murder in his eyes.

“You little shit. Got you at last.”

This absolute lunatic!

He chased me all the way out here? Talk about tenaci…!

“Die!!”

He lunged at me with the blade before I could blink. Reflexively, I gripped the sickle-shaped thing and pulled.

— Vwip—

— VWOOOOOOOOOOOM—!!!

Blinding light flooded my whole field of vision. A beam of light, dazzling as the sun, burst out and punched straight through him.

“Kuh-hakh!”

— Thump.

He collapsed with a hole blown clean through his chest.

“…Huh?”