Chapter 341
Chapter 341. The Blind Sword is the Best in the World
Mangangsu (만강수), a second-level disciple of the Beggar’s Sect (개방), walked towards his usual begging spot, carefully carrying a food container he had just received. As he lovingly stroked the container, his steps came to an abrupt halt.
Someone was sitting in his usual spot, a recessed corner near the Mirak Banjum (미락반점) restaurant.
Everyone on this street knew that spot was his. Even street vendors avoided setting up their stalls there. Yet, a vagrant-looking fellow was seated there, eating a meal.
As Mangangsu approached, he noticed something astonishing. On a board about 60 centimeters long, were dishes of food from Mirak Banjum.
‘Who the hell is this guy?’
Mirak Banjum was known for its exorbitant prices; most people could only dream of smelling the food from outside. Yet this man was devouring those dishes right there on the street.
As Yeon Jeokha (연적하) calmly bit into a chicken leg, he looked up. A beggar stood there, staring intently.
Observing the beggar’s rice-filled container, Yeon Jeokha quickly understood the situation. Smiling, he lifted a chicken wing and offered it to the beggar.
Seeing Yeon Jeokha’s face, covered in sores and hardened scabs, Mangangsu instinctively recoiled.
Noticing his reaction, Yeon Jeokha insisted, waving the chicken wing:
“Sir, I don’t have smallpox. It’s not contagious. It’s just a rash that spread to my face, nothing more.”
Realizing his mistake, Mangangsu coughed awkwardly.
“Ahem, ahem, it’s alright. I’ve never seen such a severe rash. I’m Mangangsu, a disciple of the Beggar’s Sect.”
As he spoke, Mangangsu furtively glanced at the sword hanging from Yeon Jeokha’s belt, a clear sign he expected a formal introduction, a courtesy among Murim warriors.
However, Yeon Jeokha didn’t want to reveal his true name in his current deplorable state.
“My name is Yeon Dubi.”
“Yeon Dubi? I haven’t heard that name before. Are you from Namyang?”
“No. I’m just passing through.”
“You seem like a warrior. Which sect are you from?”
“Why are you asking so many questions if you’re not an official?”
Surprised by Yeon Jeokha’s response, Mangangsu tried to justify himself:
“Is there a rule that says only officials can ask? As colleagues who follow the Murim path, it’s natural to be curious.”
“It’s a family martial art. It’s none of your concern.”
The mention of a family martial art made Mangangsu feel less intimidated. If he wasn’t part of one of the Seven Great Sects or the Four Great Families, his position couldn’t be higher than the Beggar’s Sect.
“I’d like to ignore it, but I can’t. You’re sitting in my spot.”
“What? Do beggars buy land now?”
“I didn’t say I bought it. This is where I usually beg. Even the street vendors don’t set up their stalls here out of respect.”
Finally, Yeon Jeokha understood it was a territorial issue.
“Alright. I’ll finish eating and leave.”
“Oh, no. You’re just going to eat and leave? Then where am I supposed to eat?”
Mangangsu’s insistence was irritating Yeon Jeokha, who was already annoyed at being kicked out of the restaurant. Now, a beggar was acting like he owned the place.
Frustrated, Yeon Jeokha tossed the chicken leg he was biting. Just as he was about to say something, the situation suddenly changed.
From both ends of the street, warriors armed with weapons began to appear, moving towards Mirak Banjum. Their expressions were ferocious, and the aura of danger they emitted sent the civilians fleeing like a receding tide.
Both sides advanced step by step until they stopped in front of the restaurant.
Mangangsu, who had now casually sat down next to Yeon Jeokha, sighed.
“In the end, it couldn’t be avoided. Another battle between righteous and evil sects has begun.”
Yeon Jeokha’s gaze shifted from Mangangsu to the unfamiliar warriors.
“Battle between righteous and evil sects?”
“Those in white are from the Jangrak Sect (장락방), and those in red are from the Hyeolju Gate (혈주문). The former is a righteous sect, while the latter belongs to the Evil Faction (사파).”
“Why are they fighting?”
“Why else? For money, of course. Both want to be the ones supplying liquor to Mirak Banjum. They’ve been fighting over this for a month.”
“Impressive.”
With a war cry, the two sides lunged into combat.
Yeon Jeokha watched the fight without looking away. Although both sides wielded sharp weapons, there didn’t seem to be any blood.
This was because, while using weapons, they kept their torsos far enough apart to avoid direct contact, letting only the tips of the weapons clash.
However, the sound of the clashing weapons was intense enough to seem like a fight between great Murim masters.
¡Cha-chang! ¡Cha-cha-cha!
The real fight, however, occurred among those who, getting entangled, abandoned their weapons and began rolling on the ground like bushes swept away by the wind.
In the midst of the melee, they pulled each other’s hair, poked each other’s eyes and noses, and even bit each other.
“¡Aaaaahhh!”
“¡Ughhh!”
Occasionally, heart-wrenching screams could be heard, not because someone had lost a limb, but because someone had bitten their opponent’s arm or leg.
Accustomed to the chaotic scene, Yeon Jeokha continued eating his Bupan Tang while watching the spectacle.
Even Mangangsu, who had been arguing over the spot a moment ago, simply ate from his container without saying anything more.
At that moment, a warrior in white and one in red rolled together to where they were.
Mangangsu, without hesitation, kicked the warrior in red away from them.
The red-clad man, Jang Gyeongdae (장경대), glared at him furiously and yelled:
“Since when does the Beggar’s Sect support the Jangrak Sect!”
Hearing that, the warrior in white quickly scurried away, leaving Mangangsu caught in the conflict.
Hurriedly getting up, Mangangsu tried to clarify:
“It’s a misunderstanding! I only pushed because I didn’t want my container to break.”
But Jang Gyeongdae, still furious, looked at him disdainfully and growled:
“Listen, old man. Right now, I have nothing to lose, so be careful. I’ll let you go only because you’re from the Beggar’s Sect.”
With that, Jang Gyeongdae returned to the battlefield.
Yeon Jeokha, ignoring the incident, continued sipping his soup. The brief argument was over, and everything returned to chaotic normalcy.
After the brief argument ended, Yeon Jeokha resumed slurping his soup broth.
Mangansu watched him sideways with an uneasy expression.
—Hmph, our Beggar’s Sect has always valued justice, so we don’t get involved in disputes of interest. Even the Bangju told us not to interfere in the conflict between the Good and Evil factions—said Mangansu.
—Then why did you kick that man?—asked Yeon Jeokha, remembering how Mangansu had subtly pushed with his heel.
It was a push that clearly contained personal intentions.
—Well, as they say, “the crabs are on the shrimp’s side”. Jangnakbang, also known as the Jangrak Sect, is on the same side, so I had to help them somehow—replied Mangansu.
—Ah…—Yeon Jeokha looked at him with curious eyes.
Even in such an indirect way, helping his own faction was something worthy of respect. The scene gave him a bittersweet feeling.
Meanwhile, the chaos of the confrontation continued, and a short sword caught the attention of Jang Gyeongdae, who saw it lying on the ground.
Picking it up, he shouted like a madman and lunged forward, only to be stopped by a white-clad man from Jangnakbang. Both began to exchange blows violently.
—¡Cha-cha-cha-cha-chang! —The deafening sound of clashing weapons made the others recoil.
Both combatants were so focused on the edge of each other’s weapons that they paid no attention to what was happening around them.
Mangansu, seeing them approaching, was anxious.
—¡Damn it! ¡These idiots! ¡Go fight somewhere else!—he thought, feeling trapped.
However, the combatants kept approaching. Mangansu, resigned, put down his bowl and took out his Taygubong (타구봉).
From the table, Yeon Jeokha watched as he ate a chicken wing. Would Mangansu attack a member of the Yoomyung Cult again? If he did, this time the consequences would be much greater.
Jang Gyeongdae, now noticing the presence of Mangansu and the strange young man, swung his sword so that his opponent, the man in white, was facing away from them. He took advantage of the position and attacked frantically.
The man in white stepped back, but stumbled on his own foot and fell backward.
—¡Hup! —he shouted as he lost his balance.
At that moment, Jang Gyeongdae’s sword spun in the air and headed straight for Mangansu’s face.
Mangansu, who was trying to get up with his Taygubong, froze. Death seemed imminent.
—¡Urgh! —Mangansu’s groan was heard just as something unexpected happened.
With a “bang,” Jang Gyeongdae’s sword swerved to the side. Both Jang Gyeongdae and Mangansu looked on in astonishment. In the center of the sword, a small piece of bone was embedded.
—¡That’s…! —Mangansu opened his mouth, immediately recognizing the fragment: it was a bone from the chicken wing Yeon Jeokha had been eating.
At that moment, Jang Gyeongdae, still in shock, tried to attack again. But Yeon Jeokha, unfazed, snapped his fingers and launched another bone fragment that hit Jang Gyeongdae’s sword, breaking it in two.
—Hey, we’re eating. Go fight somewhere else. If not, next time I’ll hit your leg—said Yeon Jeokha calmly, picking up another chicken bone from his table.
The bone fragment flew like an arrow, causing Jang Gyeongdae’s arm to jerk backward.
Jang Gyeongdae, realizing that the peculiar-looking young man was actually an incredible master, retreated in fright and ran away. Seeing this, the white-clad man from Jangnakbang also quickly retreated.
Mangansu, still trembling, finally spoke cautiously:
—Thank you. I don’t know how I can repay this favor. As you can see, I don’t have much to offer.
—Consider it luck, sir. That situation was dangerous even for me. If I had been in your place, I probably would have died—replied Yeon Jeokha sincerely.
It was true. If Yeon Jeokha had been in Mangansu’s position, he wouldn’t have been able to dodge the sword. It was only because he was next to him, with a bone fragment in hand, that he was able to save him. If anything about that had been different, Mangansu would undoubtedly have died.
As he got up to leave, Yeon Jeokha reflected:
—People’s lives truly depend on fate. If we had switched places, who would know that the great Yeon Jeokha died from a stray sword in the street?
The dust raised by the chaos of the battle covered the entire place. Feeling his appetite had vanished, Yeon Jeokha stacked his dishes and got up, thinking about the irony of life.
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