Chapter 2

“Wh-what the hell?”

I stared, wide-eyed, at the murim warrior lying there. A hole was punched clean through his chest, as though the god of death had passed through it. There wasn’t even any blood. I caught the smell of burnt meat, and when I looked closer, the flesh in and around the hole had charred black.

“Holy shit.”

That terrifying murim warrior, dropped in a single shot? The power of the thing was appalling.

I stared blankly at the ‘pistol-type laser gun’ that had ended up in my hand. The name flashed through my head and made me flinch.

Pistol-type laser gun?

What the hell is that? The words felt like some alien language. Whatever they meant, that was apparently this thing’s name. How I’d come to know the name of this uncanny treasure, I couldn’t have said myself.

“Hm?”

A light blinked on the laser gun. Looking closer, the battery gauge along its side, full a moment ago, had dropped from three bars to two.

“And what the hell is a battery?”

Grumbling, I shoved the laser gun into the back of my waistband. Then I stared a while at the black-path thug lying dead with a hole through his chest, and sighed. I had no appetite whatsoever for handling a corpse, but there’s nothing for it.

“…Gotta do what you gotta do.”

Searching his robes turned up three silver taels and a sheaf of banknotes. Far too much for a low-ranking black-path thug to be carrying around.

He must have been out running an errand.

He’d happened to be away, and that was probably all that had spared him. I had neither the strength nor the sense of obligation to bury a black-path thug, so I hauled him somewhere out of sight and left the ravine.

By the time I dragged myself back to the inn, wrung out from all of it, the boss was waiting with a worried face.

“Where’ve you been all this time? And what happened to you? Did something happen?”
“…Something came up, that’s all.”

I was too tired to explain it piece by piece, and there was no chance he’d have believed me anyway. If the boss had come to me with a story about a dazzling beam of light shooting out of nowhere and punching through a black-path thug’s chest, I’d have told him to quit talking nonsense and kicked him in the backside.

“Anyway. What’s he doing here…?”

Inside the inn, the murim warrior from before was clearing away the broken tables and chairs and sweeping up the wreckage. It looked like he’d taken a job as a waiter while I was gone. The boss only shrugged and said nothing.

Nothing for it. I worked up my courage and went over. That murim warrior had nearly gotten me killed. I’d thought seeing him again would send the blood straight to my head and the curses would come out on their own, but after a whole day of being chased by a black-path thug, all I had left was fear.

I have instincts too. And they were telling me something, faintly. If the black-path thug who’d chased me was a cat, the man in front of me was a tiger with its claws sheathed. The rage that had been burning in me like a fire went cold under the chill moonlight.

“Er… Great Hero. What are you doing?”

The Cold Moon Wanderer shrugged and looked at me.

“Didn’t you tell me this happened because of me?”
“Well, yes, but…”
“And don’t worry, I killed the lot of them. The Black Dog Gang, Black Mutt Gang, whatever they call themselves.”
“…”

I glared at the Cold Moon Wanderer, who had squared his shoulders and delivered that with total confidence. A faint smile sat on his face, a glint of pride behind it.

…I swear, maybe I should just laser him.

I kept glaring in silence until he let out a long sigh.

“I know. I do. Debts and grudges in the gangho are tangled up like a spiderweb¹. Killing off a few black-path thugs won’t have settled everything.”
“You understand it perfectly, I see.”

What I meant was this.

You knew, and you did it anyway?

“Still, I intend to stand behind what I said. I’ll stay on here a while and keep watch, so don’t worry.”
“…Sorry? You’re going to stay here?”
“That’s right. I don’t lose to anyone, if I do say so myself.”
“No, Great Hero—”

I appreciate the thought, but.

It’s far too much pressure. Like living under the same roof as a tiger, I suppose.

“Don’t trouble yourself. I was worn out from drifting here and there anyway. Since it’s come to this, resting a while wouldn’t be so bad. And above all, your cooking was rather good.”

But of course. This time, too, I had no say in it.

“Hahaha — who knows? I might grow fond of the place and settle in for good.”
“…”

Goddamn murim warriors.

…Murim warriors really do just do whatever they please.

New tables and chairs arrived at the inn. Fine oak, every one of them.

“Wait — Great Hero. Are you rich?”

Great Hero Cold Moon Wanderer laughed heartily.

“Where would a wandering swordsman who drifts along with the clouds get money? I’ve barely enough to keep from going hungry.”
“Then where’s the money coming from?”
“Took it off the Black Dog Gang after I killed them, obviously. They’d squirreled away quite a pile. If there’s anything you need, just say the word. I’ll buy it all.”
“R-really?”

I gazed up at our Great Hero Cold Moon Wanderer.

“Sure. They squeezed plenty out of you under the name of a protection fee, didn’t they? Call it getting it back.”
“Aaah…!”

I could have sworn a bright light was shining out from behind the admirable Great Hero Cold Moon Wanderer. And to think I’d been about to fire a laser at a Great Hero like this, a saint and a perfect gentleman. What on earth had I been about to do?

“Th-then, could I get a cast-iron wok?”

When I asked carefully, Great Hero Cold Moon Wanderer tilted his head.

“Wok? What’s a wok?”²
“Ah — I mean a cast-iron pan. The one we’ve been using is far too old.”
“That much is easy enough. Come with me.”
“Whoaa!”

I trotted along after our Great Hero Cold Moon Wanderer.

On the way to the smithy.

Great Hero Cold Moon Wanderer spoke up suddenly as we went.

“By the way. How long are you going to keep calling me Great Hero?”

I rubbed my hands together like a pro waiter and put on a cringing smile.

“What’ll it be then, sir? Perfected One? Venerable One? Your Excellency? King?”

Great Hero Cold Moon Wanderer snorted a laugh.

“This waiter brat. Picked up all sorts of words somewhere. Just call me Un-cheon.”
“Yessir! Great Hero Un-cheon!”
“I said drop the Great Hero.”
“Big Bro Un-cheon!”
“Good. I’ll buy you some candy on the way back.”
“Yahooo!”

— Clang! Clang! Clang!

The clear ring of hammer on iron came closer. The moment we stepped into the smithy, a wave of heat hit us.

“One moment, please.”

A voice called from the back, and a little later Old Hwang, who ran the place, came out to meet his customers, wiping his hands on a grubby apron.

“Welcome in.”

Old Hwang took a look at our Big Bro Un-cheon and said:

“Here for a sword?”
“No. Came to look at a cast-iron pan for this one here.”

Old Hwang looked back and forth between me and Big Bro Un-cheon, baffled. No wonder he found it strange, a waiter turning up with some murim warrior in tow.

“Ah — right. This way.”

Old Hwang led us into the back. The forge was a small one, so it held more farm tools and kitchen implements than long weapons like blades and spears.

“This is everything I’ve got. Have a look around.”
“There you have it. Go on, pick one.”

Big Bro Un-cheon gave me a shove in the back. My eyes shone as I looked over the glossy, polished cast-iron woks.

“Whoaaa…!”

To me this was no different from a hall of legendary swords.

“Heh heh.”
“He’s that happy about it?”

Old Hwang and Big Bro Un-cheon watched me with fond amusement. I was oohing and aahing my way down the row of cast-iron woks, each one showing off its beautiful shape, when I spotted one shoved away in a corner.

“Huh? What’s that one?”
“Ah, that thing?”

Old Hwang pulled it out and explained.

“It’s a cast-iron pan, as you can see.”
“But that one’s a different color?”

The other woks were all black. That one alone, oddly, held a soft silver sheen. One look and you could tell it was no ordinary thing.

“Honestly… I don’t really know myself.”
“Sorry?”
“I only guess it’s meteoric iron. What it actually is, I couldn’t say.”

Big Bro Un-cheon muttered in disbelief.

“Hold on. What kind of madman makes a cooking pan out of meteoric iron?”
“My thoughts exactly.”

Old Hwang nodded along.

“Where did you get it?”
“A merchant came by offering it for sale, so I paid good money for it thinking I’d melt it down and use it. But the thing won’t melt at all.”
“Is that so?”
“Watch.”

Old Hwang carried it over and set it in the forge. Even after a long spell in and out of the fire it only went faintly red; its shape didn’t change at all.

— Clang! Clang!

Laid on the anvil and struck with a hammer, it didn’t so much as scratch.

“Hoh… now that is astonishing.”

Big Bro Un-cheon marveled.

“Did he not say where he got it?”
“I think I heard he picked it up at some ruins… but I can’t say for certain.”

Ruins?

I flinched. Somewhere like the place I fell into?

“That thing. Could it not be melted down and made into a sword?”

Old Hwang shrugged.

“Not here, it can’t. If you want it melted into a sword you’d have to go to one of the great forges in the Central Plains. They might know a way to melt this fellow down.”
“Hmm…”

While the two of them talked, I examined the wok. I brought my hand close to it…

— Zzzap!

“Ah.”

A prickling current ran up my fingertips and drove straight down into my heart like destiny itself. Its afterimage was far too hot, far too vivid, to write off as mere static on a dry day.

I stared blankly down at the fingertip where that instant’s spark had leapt. In the faintly scorched air I caught the scent of an unfamiliar season.

As though I had crossed the threshold into a magical autumn; as though this were the sign that my destiny, after so long a wait, had reached its radiant turning point, had finally found its place, and set the gears meshing at last… As if.

Static? Seriously?

I wiped my hand on the wall and took hold of the handle.

“Oh.”

It was lighter than I expected. My wrist always ached from tossing the cast-iron wok around, and this one would be far easier to work with. And it felt good in the hand, besides. That snug feeling, like it was molded to fit right in your palm? I don’t know why, but it was like running into an old friend.

But if it can’t carry heat, it’s a total bust.

I set the wok in the forge for a moment, then held my hand above it. I could feel the heat coming off it.

Excellent thermal conductivity, huh?

“Big Bro Un-cheon. I’ll take this one.”

The two of them broke off their conversation and stared at me in surprise.

“Are you serious? That’s the one you want?”
“Yes. I love it, Big Bro. I think I could cook much better food with this.”

Big Bro Un-cheon smacked his lips in regret; he must have been thinking of melting it down for a sword. Then he saw me hugging the wok tight to my chest, huffed a laugh, and turned to Old Hwang.

“You heard him? My little brother’s taken a shine to it. How much?”

Old Hwang scratched his head, looking troubled.

“Well now. I paid good money for that one, thinking it was meteoric iron…”
“It was shoved in a corner. You can’t melt it down, so wasn’t it just a nuisance taking up space?”
“…That’s true enough. Then I’ll take only what I gave the merchant. One silver tael.”

I was startled. One silver tael was well more than a month’s living expenses. It dawned on me, too late, that this was far beyond what a mere waiter like me deserved. I quietly set the wok down and said:

“…Now that I think about it, maybe it’s not that great after all.”

Big Bro Un-cheon watched me do it and asked:

“You want it?”
“N-no. It’s too fine a thing for me.”

Big Bro Un-cheon grinned, drew two silver taels from inside his robe, and handed them to Old Hwang.

“We’ll take it.”
“Ah — no, Great Hero. One is plenty.”
“Now, now. Take it. And tell the people around here that the finest chef in the gangho bought the finest pan.”

Big Bro Un-cheon pressed the silver into Old Hwang’s hand whether he liked it or not, then held the silver-sheened wok out to me. Flustered, I said:

“B-Big Bro. My cooking really isn’t all that good.”
“Nonsense.”

Big Bro Un-cheon cut me off in a single stroke.

“How many inns do you think I’ve eaten at, wandering the gangho all these years? Of all of them, what you cooked was the best of the lot. Trust me. You’ve earned it.”
“R-really?”

Big Bro Un-cheon grinned wide.

“Take up the cast-iron pan, boy.”
“Aaah…!”

It occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, a genuinely good murim warrior did exist.

On the way back to the inn.

I walked along beside King God General³ Big Bro Un-cheon, eating the candy he’d bought me one piece at a time.

“Are you that pleased with it?”
“Heheh.”

Big Bro Un-cheon patted my head like he found me endearing. With this silver wok in my hands, I honestly felt like I had the world at my feet.

I’ve never told anyone this, actually. My dream is bigger than anything.

Old Hwang would be going around telling the whole town that Lee Gwang-seon, the waiter at the Peace Inn, was the finest chef there was.

Well. Now I’ve really got no choice but to become one.

Big Bro Un-cheon himself had called me the finest chef, so there’s no taking it back now. I’m going to make our Peace Inn the most celebrated inn in all the gangho.

So big and so glorious that murim warriors won’t dare come near!

I’ll stand atop the heavens…!

I bellowed my resolve inside my own head, loud enough to ring.

Just you wait, Boss. I’m going to set you up in style.

— Bonk.

“Ow.”
“What are you grinning about?”

And so, eating our candy, we made it back to the inn. I was giddy at the thought of showing off the wok our Big Bro Un-cheon had bought me. I threw the inn’s door open and shouted.

“Boss! Look at this! Big Bro Un-cheon went and…”

The rest of it never came out.

A pack of vicious-looking bruisers had our poor boss surrounded. One of them had him by the collar, and I could see him mouthing something at me.

Run

“…Ah.”

I felt the blood that had been running hot go cold. The bruisers’ eyes swept over me and Big Bro Un-cheon all at once, and one of them beckoned.

“Shut the door and get over here. While I’m still asking nicely.”

Normally I’d have shrunk into myself and gone straight over to the black-path thugs the moment they beckoned. But.

I’m not a waiter who just takes it anymore.

My hand went to the back of my waistband. Fingering the cool surface of the laser gun, I counted them.

One, two, three, four…

The laser gun had only two shots left.

What do I do?

When I hesitated, the black-path thugs scowled.

“What are you doing? Get over here.”
“Look at him. Frozen stiff with fear.”

Then someone gently pushed my shoulder aside.

“Step aside.”

It was Big Bro Un-cheon.

Big Bro Un-cheon looked around the inside of the shop as he walked slowly toward the black-path thugs.

“Mm. I’ll give you credit for not smashing the new furniture. Shall we step outside and talk?”

At that, one of the thugs sneered and drew his blade.

“The hell are you on about? Can’t you count heads? If you don’t want to die—”

That was when Big Bro Un-cheon took one long stride. The next instant he was standing in front of the sneering thug. Close enough that their noses nearly touched, Big Bro Un-cheon spoke again.

“Shall we. Step outside and talk?”
“Hurgh!”

The sneering thug reeled back and went over as if he’d seen a ghost. Fair enough. If a man standing way over there suddenly turned up right in your face, even the king would fall over in shock.

“A m-master!”

— Shring-shring-shring—

They drew their blades all at once. Only then did they seem to grasp what Big Bro Un-cheon could do, and they went on their guard. The tension on them was plain to see. With everything hanging by a thread, Big Bro Un-cheon casually backed up a few steps and threw the inn’s door wide open.

“Come out. I said let’s talk outside.”

The thugs hesitated a moment, then filed out, stealing glances at the sword hanging at Big Bro Un-cheon’s waist. They must have figured that fighting in the open let them surround him, which gave them a chance. My own thinking wasn’t much different.

A murim warrior is still a person. Surround him and stab from every side at once and there’s no way to win.

Once he’d made sure all the thugs were out, Big Bro Un-cheon moved to follow, and I caught hold of him.

“B-Big Bro.”

Big Bro Un-cheon grinned.

“What. You think I’ll lose?”
“Yes.”

I answered honestly. No matter how great a master, you can’t take on that many people at once. That’s simple common sense.

Truth be told, a few days ago I wouldn’t have cared whether he lived or died, but now it’s different. He’d bought me an expensive wok, and candy on the way back, exactly like he promised. Little by little, I was starting to like Big Bro Un-cheon.

Murim warrior or not.

He’s a person, when it comes down to it.

Whether he knew what I was feeling or not, Big Bro Un-cheon smiled and said:

“Don’t worry. I’m not so weak that a pack of black-path nobodies can take me.”

With that, Big Bro Un-cheon stepped outside and shut the door.

— Creeeak—

“No viewing for kids past this point. It gets a bit violent.”

I started for the window… but the word ‘violent’ sent a jolt of fear through me, and I put my ear to the closed door instead.

“Why aren’t you watching?”
“He said no viewing. Because it’s violent.”

Our chicken of a boss thought about it for a moment… then scurried over and put his ear to the door just like me. Figures. He hasn’t got the nerve to watch it straight either.

Big Bro Un-cheon’s voice came through from outside.

— And here I’ve got someone worrying about me. It’s been a good day, for once.

His voice grew more distant, and busy footsteps sounded in between. The black-path thugs were probably surrounding him.

— Good. I won’t use my sword. I’ve no wish to ruin a day this fine by drawing blood. Come on, then.

— Uwaaaah!!

— Kill him!!

Shouts rang out, and a sound like drums being beaten.

— Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

— Gyaaagh!

— Aagh! Aaaagh! My arm!

— Kill him! I said kill him!

— Crrrunch!

— Guaaaaah!

The raw sound of violence, enough to make your stomach drop. Enough that I was glad I hadn’t watched.

After a little while the shouting died away, and only low groaning was left.

— …Gulp.

I met the boss’s eyes once, then eased the door open.

— Creeeak—

“…Huh?”

The sight that met the boss and me was staggering. The black-path thugs who’d rushed Big Bro Un-cheon were all rolling on the ground,

and Big Bro Un-cheon alone stood there, perfectly at ease.

Big Bro Un-cheon caught my eye, shrugged, and said:

“What did I tell you? Not that weak.”

…Our Big Bro Un-cheon, it turned out, was a far greater master than I’d thought.

“Whoa…”

My eyes shone with admiration as I looked at him.

That evening.

I had a dream.

An enormous spaceship floated against a vast expanse of space. Bullets rained down across a battlefield. I caught my breath behind cover, then burst out like lightning and fired my laser gun. Enemies in strange battle suits took the beams and dropped.

In the middle of the fighting. A man in all-black armor came walking slowly out from among the enemy, his cape billowing.

He raised a hand, and every enemy lowered their gun at once. A brief silence fell over the chaotic battlefield. He slowly drew a laser gun from inside his armor and threw it to the ground. Then he took out a small cylindrical grip.

— Vzzzmm—

A blade bloomed from it, red as lava.

No words were needed. I threw my own laser gun down as well and drew a sword forged out of light. Mine burned silver-white, as though it had been hammered from moonlight.

We traded dozens of blows in a furious duel. Then a cannon shot came down between the two of us. I fell toward a blue planet along with the burning hulk of the great spaceship…

— Cheep, cheep—

Bleary-faced, I looked out the window at the sunlight pouring in.

“…What the hell kind of crazy dream was that?”

On the windowsill, the laser gun and the silver wok sat gleaming in the sun.