Chapter 477

Chapter 477
## Chapter 477. Each Other’s Purposes (1)

—

The massive relocation of the Jeom-chang Sect sent shockwaves through the Murim Alliance. In every corner where martial artists congregated, the singular topic of conversation was the true motive behind Jeom-chang’s actions.

“Mark my words, the Jeong-do-hoe must be backing this! Jeom-chang would never dare pull a stunt like this on their own.”

“Even if that’s true, completely breaking away from the Murim Alliance? Does that make any logical sense?”

“Hold your horses! Who said anything about a total break? No official announcement has been made yet!”

As public bewilderment grew and speculation regarding Jeom-chang became the standard accompaniment to every tavern gathering, the leaders of both the Jeom-chang Sect and the Jeong-do-hoe grew secretly pleased. It was, after all, the perfect moment to reassert their leverage. In the grand chessboard of power, favors frequently transform into expected privileges if left unchecked. A stark reminder of their worth was overdue.

This friction was calculated to yield greater rewards in the end—whether it forced the Murim Alliance to grovel for reconciliation or led to a complete schism where they could establish a rival coalition. Either outcome favored them.

Yet, the momentum suddenly stalled.

“What is going on…?”

The fervor abruptly dissipated.

“Why has everyone stopped discussing Jeom-chang?”

The news that Jeom-chang had quietly recalled its forces to their ancestral peak failed to hold the public’s imagination. Like a fleeting trend, the topic was discarded as old news over drinks before fading into obscurity.

“…Could the Cheon-mok-gak be manipulating the narrative?”

As the premier intelligence network tracking the *Kangho*, the Cheon-mok-gak was notorious for steering public perception by leaking strategic counter-information. It was always framed as maintaining order, but it consistently shielded the Murim Alliance from scrutiny. Naturally, suspicions mounted within the Jeong-do-hoe ranks.

“I have verified the rumors. The Cheon-mok-gak is not running any active disinformation campaigns at the moment.”

“Then you are suggesting the public has simply stopped caring about the Jeong-do-hoe!?”

Myeong-hyeon’s report caused several senior members to scowl. To be precise, the public hadn’t forgotten the ‘Jeong-do-hoe’; they had simply lost interest in ‘Jeom-chang.’ Still, while aggravating, this setback was not enough to halt their grand design. Jeom-chang had already set the wheels in motion.

“That is not quite accurate. The intelligence brought in by our informants among the beggars indicates that Jeom-chang remains a topic of conversation.”

Cheon-pung-sin-gae paused to take a deep draught of liquor before clarifying.

“It is simply that an entirely different narrative has captured the public’s fascination.”

“A different narrative? Such as?”

“The Yong-bong Association.”

“….”

Cheon-pung-sin-gae casually reached for a plate with his bare fingers. Another elder, who had been extending his chopsticks toward the same dish, withdrew his hand in annoyance. Completely unfazed, Cheon-pung-sin-gae continued speaking.

“Their exploits are just too theatrical. The common folk are practically begging for daily updates on their crusade.”

Tales of them eradicating a notorious fleet of river pirates along the Yangtze River; accounts of them rescuing a kidnapped youth and dismantling the syndicate responsible; reports of them intervening when a major merchant guild was ambushed by mountain bandits, successfully reclaiming the stolen treasury. As the laundry list of the Yong-bong Association’s localized heroics grew, the countenances of the Jeong-do-hoe elders soured completely.

“Are you telling me our grand political maneuver was overshadowed by petty vigilante stories? In the middle of a systemic crisis for the Murim Alliance?!”

Myeong-hyeon’s fury did nothing to stop Cheon-pung-sin-gae from draining another container of wine. To institutional martial artists, these deeds seemed insignificant, but the elders failed to comprehend that the public was enamored because the idealized Yong-bong Association was the one performing them.

“High politics only captivate the masses for so long. They care initially, but institutional fatigue sets in rapidly.”

“…Weren’t they assigned to pick up the duties left behind by the Black Officials? Why are they wasting time on these side distractions?”

The Jeong-do-hoe had intentionally expanded the target ledger previously used by the Black Officials, dumping the massive administrative burden onto the Yong-bong Association. Properly vetting every single one of those organizations should have consumed their entire focus and schedule. Instead, they were meandering through the countryside playing heroes.

“Ah, they seem to have ample free time because they are completely bypassing several organizations on the itinerary.”

This revelation caused the faces of the Jeong-do-hoe members to flush with a mixture of rage and disbelief.

“Bypassing them?! They are just skipping audits?! That is an absolute mockery of the mandate!!!”

Given the stakes, the sweeping corruption audit was supposed to be the most critical operational initiative within the Murim Alliance.

“What if the sects they ignored are harboring heretical techniques?!”

“You can rest easy on that front. They weren’t.”

“What?”

“Not a single one. Every establishment they bypassed turned out to be completely devoid of heterodox martial arts or any connection to the forbidden sorcery of the Blood Cult.”

Cheon-pung-sin-gae gave a mocking grin.

“I found it rather amusing myself. It is almost as if they possessed prior knowledge, navigating around only the innocent factions with surgical precision.”

“….”

“Because of that efficiency, they have plenty of leisure time for charity work.”

No one in the chamber shared Cheon-pung-sin-gae’s amusement. They refused to find it funny. While the Yong-bong Association was not their ultimate endgame, they were a critical component of the chess match. Yet, the youth were executing their tasks flawlessly with minimal effort, while veteran strategists were failing despite agonizing over every detail. The sheer, inexplicable competence of their opponents was infuriating. Their shared resentment was palpable.

In their agitation, the boundaries of political decorum began to fray.

“With all due respect to Taoist Yang-seo, I never pinned their commander, Gwak Su-san, as a tactical mastermind capable of this.”

Taoist Yang-seo, representing the Jong-nam Sect, looked deeply offended. While the Yong-bong Association’s current trajectory disrupted the Jeong-do-hoe’s timeline, hearing his own sect’s junior publicly disparaged pricked his pride.

“Could they be receiving back-channel intelligence? Perhaps from the Man-tong Bureau?”

Cheon-pung-sin-gae dismissed the theory with a shake of his head.

“We monitored them closely; there has been no secret correspondence with the Man-tong Bureau. Initially, they replied to standard inquiries, but midway through the tour, they stopped responding entirely—likely out of sheer apathy.”

“That defies all logic…!”

“Jin So-un.”

“…!”

Hearing that specific name leave Cheon-pung-sin-gae’s lips caused Myeong-hyeon to visibly tense up.

“Our intelligence suggests that specific boy is the catalyst.”

An obscure disciple from a bottom-tier faction residing at the absolute nadir of the One Hundred and Eight Peaks had somehow transformed into a figure that provoked physical irritation at a mere mention. It wasn’t fear that drove their malice, but pure, unadulterated aggravation. He was a persistent thorn in their side.

That low-born upstart had managed to secure the patronage of formidable figures like Hyeok Mu-gang and Jegal So-myeong. Consequently, his minor sect was suddenly being heralded as a rising powerhouse within Anhui Province. The original plan was to drag him down into ruin alongside the current Murim Alliance leadership, yet he kept slipping through their fingers like a greasy eel.

“Unbelievable… What on earth is the commander of the Yong-bong Association thinking, letting him—”

“Silence!”

A sharp reprimand cut through the room. Taoist Yang-seo stood up, his face crimson with indignation as he glared at Myeong-hyeon.

“Listening to this diatribe, one would think you are actively rooting for heretical arts and Blood Cult heresy to saturate the *Kangho* just so you can witness a catastrophe!”

“No, Elder, that is a misunderstanding—”

“Save your breath. I have heard quite enough. See to the rest of this strategy without me.”

As Taoist Yang-seo exited the room in a fit of rage, Cheon-pung-sin-gae let out a dry chuckle.

“I warned you to temper your complaints.”

The mocking attempt at consolation only added fuel to Myeong-hyeon’s internal fire. Jeom-chang was arguably suffering the greatest humiliation in this predicament, but throwing tantrums would not alter reality. Forcing his anger down, Myeong-hyeon addressed the remaining elders.

“Let us formulate a counter-strategy…”

—

When reality completely defies expectation, the human response is often a bitter, disbelieving laugh. It is the kind of laughter that bubbles up when an adversary is standing exactly where you intend to go, having anticipated your movements perfectly despite your best efforts to conceal your path and throw them off the scent. Leaving aside their motives, the sheer impossibility of *how* they tracked us elicited that exact reaction.

“Ha…”

Our chosen, secluded campsite was already occupied. Waiting for us in the clearing was an individual whose presence made no sense.

“You took your time.”

…The fact that it was Yong So-a made the situation exponentially more baffling. The assembled members of the Yong-bong Association stood frozen in shock. None of them were privy to the fact that Yong So-a possessed the gift of foresight.

‘Even if I explained it to them, they would dismiss it as madness.’

“How… how did you manage to find us here?”

Gwak Su-san voiced the collective bewilderment of the group, demanding a logical explanation. In response, Yong So-a calmly stepped forward.

“Commander of the Yong-bong Association, Gwak Su-san.”

“Y-Yes, Senior!”

“Why are you failing to prioritize your objective?”

“Uh… well, about that…”

Visibly shaken by the sheer gravity of Yong So-a’s presence, Gwak Su-san forgot his original query, his mind racing to formulate a defensible excuse. Yet, through his panic, his eyes kept darting back to me for assistance.

“Dial it back a bit.”

I extended a hand, lightly tapping Yong So-a’s shoulder to break his focus.

“What is your purpose here?”

“I knew this location would serve as your campsite tonight.”

That wasn’t the answer I was looking for.

“I am asking *why* you chose this exact moment to intercept us.”

“Moving forward, I am integrating myself into your unit.”

What kind of insanity was he spouting now?

“Again, why?”

“Because the Yong-bong Association is currently compromised, failing to execute its mandate with proper rigor.”

“What are you even talking about?”

Yong So-a finally shifted his unreadable gaze away from our commander.

“How many designated sects have you intentionally bypassed without a proper inspection?”

“What does our methodology have to do with the Blue Dragon Pavilion? Regardless of the outcome, the commander of this association bears the ultimate accountability.”

“Hey, wait a minute, what do you mean by that?!”

Gwak Su-san’s jaw dropped in sheer panic, but I didn’t have the patience to soothe his bruised ego right now.

“Have any of our completed audits yielded a single operational failure? They haven’t. So where exactly is the issue?”

“When the methodology is compromised, the ultimate integrity of the result is invalidated. A flawed process cannot yield a true conclusion.”

The cold gaze that had been fixed on Gwak Su-san suddenly locked onto me, identifying me as the root cause of the deviation.

“Your conduct has introduced an unacceptable variable into this mission. I am joining the expedition to enforce corrective measures.”

Deeming the explanation complete, Yong So-a turned back to Gwak Su-san.

“Identify my quarters.”

“Excuse me?”

“Was my syntax overly complex?”

“….”

An incredibly tense and silent dinner followed, courtesy of Yong So-a’s oppressive presence. The usual camaraderie of the Yong-bong Association was entirely absent; everyone retired to their bedrolls early just to escape the atmosphere. Once the camp fell quiet and the majority were asleep, I made my move.

I sought out Yong So-a, who had taken the first sentry watch. Bathed in the silver glow of the moon, he resembled a pristine painting, leaning against a boulder while quietly flipping through a manuscript.

‘…Why does his mere existence irritate me so intensely?’

I have never claimed to be a saint, but I like to think I possess a decent moral compass. Yet, every single interaction with Yong So-a triggers an instinctive urge to violence.

“If sleep eludes you, force your mind to rest. Regardless of the depth of your cultivation, neglecting sleep is an inefficient expenditure of vitality.”

*Sarak—*

The sound of the page turning accompanied his detached voice, delivered without him even looking up. A wave of genuine irritation washed over me.

“Give me the real reason you forced your way into this group.”

“I have already articulated my purpose. I am here to rectify an erroneous process.”

This was Yong So-a—a man who despised redundancy, worshipped absolute optimization, and believed a single calculated movement carried more weight than a thousand vows. He had traveled all this way purely to steer things back on course. But knowing who he was in my previous life, and fully understanding his supernatural sight, did he really think I would buy that narrative?

“Drop the act. What did your visions show you?”

He had clearly witnessed a future event. That was the only reason he would personally intervene in the Yong-bong Association’s itinerary.

“What disaster are you trying to orchestrate or avert this time?”

“….”

At that, Yong So-a finally turned his head to look at me. In that brief moment, the moonlight reflecting off his features seemed unnaturally bright.

‘What is this feeling…?’

“I—”

*Chak—*

“Do not possess omniscience at all times.”

He snapped the text shut and rose to his full height.

“My sight granted me nothing regarding this excursion.”

With those parting words, Yong So-a brushed past me. Watching his flawless posture as he walked away with absolute certainty, a single conviction solidified in my mind.

‘He is lying.’

He saw something specific. I was sure of it.

—

The practical dynamics of our journey remained largely unchanged despite Yong So-a’s integration. Initially, the members of the Yong-bong Association walked on eggshells around such an illustrious figure. However, after a few days of observation revealed that he was essentially a regular, albeit stoic, martial artist rather than the mythical entity of rumors, the tension dissipated.

“Senior, I thought you might enjoy these.”

Danmok Gyo-ryeon held out a small parcel of confectionery she had procured from the last settlement we crossed.

“I strictly adhere to standard dietary intervals. I do not partake in snacks.”

“Oh… I understand.”

“I will accept them on this occasion to avoid rudeness, but do not waste resources on such items in the future.”

“…Understood!”

Despite the mild rejection, Danmok Gyo-ryeon beamed as if she had received high praise.

“….”

There were clearly a couple of pieces left in her hand. Why did she walk right past me and Il-gak without offering?

“…Sweets are meant for children anyway.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Something about the interaction felt off, but I dismissed it. My primary objective was to keep a vigilant eye on Yong So-a. I needed to ensure he didn’t pull any reckless stunts under the guise of ‘correcting’ our path.

“What is our next destination?”

Having systematically crossed off factions based on my internal ledger of the past, we had whittled the remaining targets down to less than half.

“Our next stop is Hwa-pung-jang.”

“Hwa-pung-jang…”

I searched the archives of my memories from my previous life for any data on that name.

“Are we bypassing this one as well?”

Gwak Su-san inquired in a lowered voice, keeping a wary eye on the nearby Yong-bong senior.

“Tell me truly… do you possess some form of spiritual insight? Every single omission you have ordered has proven flawless…”

The commander, who had initially harbored deep resentment and suspicion toward my decisions, had fully transitioned into viewing me as some sort of enlightened mystic.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Huh?”

“Just listen to me.”

My hesitation had nothing to do with Yong So-a. Hwa-pung-jang was a complicated case. They weren’t a faction that participated in the great conflict between the Orthodox and unconventional forces. If one were to ask if they dabbled in the forbidden arts of the Blood Cult, the answer was no. In my past life, while the Black Officials were executing their purges, this specific sect remained untouched, only to completely disintegrate later when their chief administrator embezzled the entire treasury and vanished.

“We will conduct a physical inspection of this one.”

“Wait, really?”

Gwak Su-san’s features contorted in confusion.

“What changed?”

“You have been entirely consistent with your ‘skip’ or ‘target’ declarations until now. Suddenly opting to ‘take a look’ is inconsistent.”

This was precisely why I found perceptive individuals so incredibly tedious to manage.

—

Kaifeng, Henan Province.

Revered as one of the three foundational historic capitals alongside Xi’an and Luoyang, the metropolis was a teeming sea of humanity, fully living up to its legendary reputation. Upon our arrival at the commercial district, we dispatched a formal notice of intent to Hwa-pung-jang before securing lodging at an establishment situated on the peripheral boundaries of Kaifeng, keeping us within a reasonable distance of our target.

Kaifeng operated under a distinct reality: within Henan Province, the syndicates of the Black Path held immense sway here. Specifically, an aggressive, rapidly ascending organization known as the Hyeol-cheon-bo held absolute dominion over the city, boasting an army of thousands of ruthless combatants.

“We have no intention of provoking them, but things will get incredibly complicated if we draw unnecessary attention to ourselves and spark a turf dispute.”

With that strategic concern in mind, Gwak Su-san had deliberately selected a modest, out-of-the-way tavern for our stay.

“So, my esteemed leader, kindly wipe that scowl off your face.”

“I am not scowling!”

Announcing that it was time to shed our rugged traveler personas and present ourselves as the formal Yong-bong Association, the rest of the vanguard moved into the upper living quarters, leaving Gwak Su-san to handle the final administrative details. Only myself, Il-gak, and Yong So-a remained on the ground floor, taking an early meal in the dining area. I hadn’t noticed her departure, but Danmok Gyo-ryeon suddenly walked through the main entrance, carrying a freshly wrapped batch of mooncakes. Her trajectory brought her straight to our table.

“Leader.”

Hearing her address me, I shot a smug, victorious grin in Yong So-a’s direction.

“Ah, mooncakes. Now that is a substantial, respectful offering, unlike mass-produced candies.”

“….”

I looked up at Danmok Gyo-ryeon and gave a nod of approval.

“What do you need?”

“I wanted to clarify our logistical route following the conclusion of the Hwa-pung-jang audit.”

“…Pardon?”

“If I am aware of our itinerary, I can research the local culinary delicacies of the regions ahead.”

“….”

As she finished her sentence, she neatly placed the package of mooncakes directly in front of Yong So-a. Wait. Why did she set them down over there…?

“Senior Yong So-a, please accept these. They are from the most prestigious confectionery house in all of Kaifeng.”

“…Have I not made myself clear? I do not indulge in sustenance outside of designated meal hours.”

“As it happens, this coincides perfectly with our scheduled dining hour, does it not?”

Danmok Gyo-ryeon offered a radiant smile. Yong So-a studied her expression for a brief moment before inclining his head in acquiescence.

“…Very well. I shall partake of a single piece.”

He placed a portion of the pastry into his mouth, his gaze locking onto me with an intense, unblinking focus. What was his problem? As Danmok Gyo-ryeon watched him eat with an expression of pure satisfaction, I reached out a hand toward the remaining pastries, only for her to swiftly pull the package out of my reach. Did she just deliberately evade my hand?

“Hands off, don’t go swiping provisions meant for others. I am still waiting for an answer regarding our next destination.”

I kept my eyes locked onto Yong So-a’s stoic face as I answered her.

“The badlands.”

“Excuse me?”

“We are charting a course for the wastes.”

“Stop joking around, what business do we have in a wasteland—”

“The desert! Our trajectory leads directly into the desert!”

“Right, whatever you say.”

Danmok Gyo-ryeon turned and headed toward the stairs, leaving me to drown my irritation in a bitter cup of alcohol. At that precise moment, a young woman bearing the distinct bearing of a martial artist crossed the threshold of the inn. She scanned the room before focusing on our position and striding over.

“Am I addressing the representatives of the Yong-bong Association?”

“You are.”

The newcomer offered a succinct martial salute.

“I am Song Ye-seol, representing the Hwa-pung-jang.”

“Ah, excellent. We received word, though there was truly no need for you to personally seek us out—”

“You misunderstand my purpose. I am not here to welcome your delegation.”

Song Ye-seol met our collective gaze directly.

“I have come to formally deny the Yong-bong Association entry to our grounds.”

At that completely unprecedented defiance, myself, Il-gak, and Yong So-a exchanged sharp, questioning glances.