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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator:Bobt
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“This… shit…”
Jang Geon muttered curses as he staggered. His distorted expression and twitching eyelids displayed his anguish, anger, sadness, and dejection. The game pieces clattered as they dropped from his trembling hands. He had lost again.
“…Look, I wouldn’t normally say this, but it seems like gambling just isn’t for you.”
A middle-aged man sitting at the same table looked at Jang Geon with pity and offered his advice. However, Jang Geon glared at him fiercely, gritting his teeth.
“You guys… did you all conspire together…?”
The middle-aged man chuckled.
“Conspire together? No, your skill level doesn’t even require that. You’re just terrible at gambling.”
Those words dealt the final blow. Jang Geon ultimately lost all his energy and hung his head low. He knew better than anyone that the gamblers at this table weren’t colluding. Having been fleeced before, he had sharpened his senses through inner cultivation and even awakened his spirit perception to observe their hand movements.
The problem was that he had been so focused on their hand movements that he completely neglected to conceal his own expressions or read their emotions. The realm he entered so naturally when wielding a sword became muddled the moment he held gambling pieces in his hand.
In any case, he had been thoroughly fleeced at this gambling den.
“Don’t take my words lightly. You truly suck at gambling. And as a so-called martial artist carrying a sword, you shouldn’t be wielding such deadly weapons if you can’t even win at simple gambling. You might end up getting stabbed for real.”
The middle-aged man picked up the coins scattered on the table and offered his sincere advice. However, Jang Geon, who had been sitting with his head hung low, simply rose from his chair in a deflated manner and walked over to the long table facing the innkeeper in the corner of the inn. The middle-aged man shook his head slightly, feeling ignored.
“Looks like he’s a sore loser.”
As Jang Geon approached and took a seat, the innkeeper, who had been roasting something over a small brazier, put it down and brought out a bottle of alcohol. Jang Geon naturally accepted the bottle and cup, filled the cup, and said,
“I’ve never been a good loser.”
The innkeeper, who appeared to be between middle and old age, simply smiled slightly at Jang Geon’s curt response and turned his attention back to the small brazier. Since Jang Geon had been boosting the inn’s revenue for six days straight, even his rude manner seemed endearing.
Cradling the cup, Jang Geon propped his arm on the table, stroked his chin, and surveyed the inn with dull eyes.
More people were drinking alcohol and snacks than eating full meals. It was late afternoon, so farmers who had finished their grueling fieldwork and shop owners who had closed their stores had stopped by for a drink. In one corner of the inn, a traveling performer had pulled a wide bamboo hat low over his face, slouched deeply in a chair, and was plucking a lute. Jang Geon took another sip of his drink, using the lute’s melody as accompaniment.
The two-story inn, built in the traditional courtyard style, was bright with the afternoon sunlight streaming in. However, thanks to that bright light, the shadowy areas appeared even darker in contrast.
Sitting in the dark corner, Jang Geon gazed at the bright side with his dull eyes. In his hazy vision, the dust particles shimmered white as they danced merrily among the laughing and chattering people, illuminated by the sunlight. What kind of life did those drifting specks of dust lead? Did they simply surrender themselves to the currents between gusts of wind? If so, could their existence be considered as fulfilling as those laughing farmers and merchants?
A small smile crept onto Jang Geon’s lips as he stroked his chin, watching the dust. He found himself amusing, indulging in such fanciful thoughts after losing money.
Still, he had learned something this time. Unlike before, he hadn’t gambled until his pockets were completely emptied. The coins remaining in his bosom provided a sense of reassurance.
As Jang Geon contentedly smiled and raised his cup, his eyes fell upon three men entering the inn.
Their oily, shiny bamboo hats, black windbreakers, and the hilts of swords protruding over their right shoulders identified them as suspicious characters, their gloomy demeanors adding to the impression that they were some kind of deviants.
The innkeeper let out a soft groan, audible only to Jang Geon nearby, then approached them, staying behind the long counter.
“Welcome. Will you be staying the night?”
Instead of answering the innkeeper’s question, the man at the front of the trio in black windbreakers tilted his bamboo hat slightly and slowly scanned the interior of the inn. After surveying the inn until the innkeeper’s expression grew visibly uncomfortable, he seemed to spot someone and grinned.
“…Excuse me, sir?”
Without responding to the innkeeper’s words, the man suddenly raised his index finger. The innkeeper, roughly understanding the gesture, poured a glass of strong liquor and handed it over. After downing it in one gulp, the man slammed a coin onto the counter and strode inside.
The inn had fallen silent. Even at a glance, the three men’s presence felt ominous. However, their wide formation as they entered prevented anyone from leaving, and the patrons could only exchange wary glances.
The man at the front leisurely approached the traveling performer who had been plucking the lute and stood behind him. The performer, who had been slouched in the chair with his legs propped on the table and his face hidden under the bamboo hat, seemed to sense the sudden stillness and slightly lifted the hat.
“Oh.”
Jang Geon felt a spark of excitement, seeing someone employing what resembled lightness skills after such a long time. The person appeared to have combined natural agility and flexibility with some form of training. Perhaps he was witnessing a pioneer of lightness skills in the New Continent.
At that moment, with all the tables on the first floor smashed, the performer descended to the ground. The two swordsmen froze and held their breath the instant she planted her feet on the floor.
Immediately after, two streaks of light flashed past the performer. She remained in the stance of holding her straight sword in a reverse grip, planted on the floor, while the two swordsmen stood behind her, their backs to her.
A brief silence followed the streaks of light. Then, the performer straightened up and sheathed her straight sword into the scabbard at her lower back. As the sword met the scabbard with a soft click, the two swordsmen collapsed. One had his neck nearly severed, while the other had a dagger embedded in the center of his forehead.
Having witnessed the entire scene, Jang Geon silently applauded and sipped his drink. The traveling performer had not only provided the lute’s melody as an accompaniment but now also enhanced the taste of the alcohol with her swordsmanship. Feeling pleased, he nodded to himself.
The performer took a moment to catch her breath, then noticed Jang Geon, the only person still calmly seated, nodding to himself. As if watching a madman, she stared at him. She then spotted the innkeeper hiding behind Jang Geon and approached him.
“I’m so sorry about this. Those ruffians have made a mess of your inn.”
The innkeeper smiled with a half-resigned expression and shook his head.
“Running an inn means being accustomed to such incidents. You need not concern yourself, miss.”
“No, I cannot do that. If it weren’t for me, this wouldn’t have happened.”
Saying so, she untied the lute slung across her back. Then, she fiddled with the bottom of the lute, causing a small, square compartment to open with a soft click. From inside, she took out a pouch. After a moment’s hesitation, she offered the entire pouch.
“Here. Use this for the repairs.”
“Oh my, what’s all this now?”
The innkeeper showed no signs of refusing. He accepted the pouch without hesitation and chuckled, suggesting it was quite heavy with money. After handing over the money, the woman glanced around the inn, surveying the corpses of the three swordsmen and the wreckage, nodded to the innkeeper, and left.
Jang Geon understood why she had departed so swiftly. No matter how justified her actions were, the local martial arts alliance branch leader would still want to detain her. If she didn’t want any trouble, leaving promptly was the wise choice.
Shortly after, Jang Geon realized he should also make a swift exit. The branch leader, who had arrived belatedly, began interrogating him about every minor detail. If not for the innkeeper providing him with alcohol and snacks, Jang Geon might have punched the man in the face.
* * *
The next day, Jang Geon was leisurely leading Jojo along, savoring the fresh forest air. Although he had prevented his pockets from being completely emptied by the temptation of gambling, the truth was that they had still become considerably lighter. And the village from the previous day had been a peaceful place with no particular disturbances, where the performer’s commotion was considered the biggest event in nearly a year.
In such a place, there was no way for a wanderer to earn money.
Having to seek out trouble in order to make money – Jang Geon let out a bitter chuckle and slowly led Jojo forward. The sunlight filtering through the straight tree trunks soothed his mood. Recalling the melody the performer had played on her lute the previous day, Jang Geon whistled the tune.
As he leisurely guided his horse along the mountain path, whistling, Jang Geon noticed a cliff protruding from the side of the path and steered Jojo toward it.
Standing at the cliff’s edge, he could see the winding mountain ridges in the distance, the vast snowy peaks even further away, and the meandering river and undulating forest below. The sight instilled an inexplicable sense of calm within Jang Geon.
After taking a deep breath of the fresh air, Jang Geon turned to lead Jojo away from the cliff, but he suddenly pulled back on the reins, stopping. Jojo let out a disgruntled snort, as if asking why he was acting so strangely.
“…Her again?”
Down below, at the base of the cliff, the performer stood facing off against someone.
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