Murim Troubleshooter Dan Mujin

Chapter 169 : The Byeok Clan



Chapter 169 : The Byeok Clan

Chapter 169: The Byeok Clan

What happens when a bomb goes off at close range?

First comes a blinding flash, then a sweeping blast wave, followed by a hail of sharp iron fragments shooting in all directions.

In short, it tears your entire body apart, starting with your eyes and ears—that is the power of a bomb (爆彈) using gunpowder.

"Ilhong!"

On instinct, I threw myself around Ilhong, the most physically vulnerable among us.

I willingly became her meat shield, but strangely enough, neither the blast pressure nor the metal fragments that should’ve torn us apart came.

The bomb only emitted a deafening boom and a blinding flash, but the actual lethality seemed surprisingly low.

Yeah, it was more like a flashbang than a grenade.

And while everyone froze like statues in shock, the boy who had thrown the iron ball dashed off like lightning.

“That bastard’s running!”

“Catch him!”

But the direction he ran in was odd. He wasn’t heading for the inn’s exit—he was coming straight toward us.

He dove beneath the now-wrecked table.

“Wanderer Noona! You’re the one who escorted us at the clan back then, right? Sister Soho?!”

The boy apparently recognized Joharang, calling out her old nickname from her days as a wanderer.

“You’re… wait, are you that brat from the Byeok Clan?”

Apparently, Joharang recognized him too.

Still holding the chicken leg she’d grabbed before the explosion, she looked at the boy in surprise.

“Please help! Those people— they’re seriously bad news!”

The boy pleaded, pointing at the group rushing toward us with drawn blades and murderous intent.

Joharang looked a bit conflicted, glancing between her chicken leg and the incoming enemies.

Everything was a mess, there was nowhere to set it down, and fighting with it in hand would definitely get it bloody—a clear dilemma on her face.

“…Are you serious? Give it here. I’ll hold it.”

Still sprawled on the ground, I reached out to solve the wildcat’s absurd problem.

“Thanks!”

“No thanks needed.”

Joharang pulled out her massive blade and charged forward without hesitation.

After all, she carried an ominous star within her, one with a poor appetite when it came to food.

I took a bite out of the soy-marinated chicken leg. Salty. Tasty.

But why did my chest feel so warm all of a sudden?

Chaaang!

Her heavy saber cut through the air and knocked away three incoming blades at once.

The blades couldn’t withstand the tremendous force behind her saber and shattered. The pressure from her swing swept through the oncoming group like a typhoon.

“Ghhk!”

“What the hell is this woman?!”

Faced with the sudden appearance of an extraordinary master, the pursuers halted in their tracks.

Maybe they were told it’d be a simple grab-and-go job. As they regrouped, hesitation flickered in their eyes.

Avoiding unnecessary fights is best—especially for the sake of the innkeeper, whose face was utterly distraught in the background.

So, Joharang stirred her Blade Flux to clearly show the difference in level.

The overwhelming energy now visibly clinging to her blade—something sword qi wouldn’t even penetrate—quickly turned the men’s faces pale.

“Damn it… she’s a high-level master.”

“Why the hell is someone like her popping out of an inn…?”

Well, we weren’t planning to pop out either.

But inns are always full of unexpected twists, aren’t they?

“Stand down, wanderer!”

“This isn’t your business!”

“Daring to interfere with official matters, are you, Murim scum?”

The gang, recognizing the wanderer's token she wore on her hip since her old days, began growling at her to back off.

“Quit barking and bring it on.”

A chilling voice came from Ja Misung, who could see through human karma and determine whether someone was good or evil.

Apparently, those guys were judged as evil. That meant no mercy.

When it came to villains, Joharang was no different from the Evil-Slaying Demoness.

“For now… we withdraw.”

“Hey you—Joharang, was it? You’ll regret this.”

“We’ll see about that…”

Unable to confront a master likely at Transcendence level, the group chose a strategic retreat.

With scowls on their faces and threats on their tongues, they poured out of the inn.

As the chaos faded, silence and stillness returned to the Sosok Inn.

No, not complete silence. The sound of the innkeeper’s soft sobbing was still audible nearby.

“L-Leader…”

And then, as things seemed to have calmed down, I heard Ilhong call me in a trembling voice.

“Huh? What is it?”

Her voice was oddly shaky, and her neck had grown slightly warm.

“P-please let me go…”

“Huh? Oh, right.”

She was an ordinary civilian with no regenerative ability, so I had instinctively thrown myself to shield her.

The result was that Ilhong had been in my arms in a rather awkward position this whole time.

“I was just trying to protect you.”

“I know. That’s why I stayed quiet…”

She responded, blushing deep red like her name “Honggeum”—Crimson Gold.

She awkwardly extricated herself and tried to steady her breath.

Then, suddenly, a calloused female hand thrust into my vision.

“Meat.”

She was reaching to take back what she had entrusted me.

“What? It’s gone, punk.”

“…!”

Joharang gave me a look of utter betrayal.

That was the same expression I made when Hwang Geolgae discovered Ja Misung’s existence.

Serves her right.

“My chicken leg?!”

“In the wild, if you let your guard down, your prey gets taken.”

“What the—?! You think Beijing is the wild?! Huh?!”

“There’s a person-shaped wildcat right in front of me, so yeah, it’s the wild.”

“Aaagh, seriously!”

Joharang stomped her feet in fury.

In any case, the food was ruined, blood had been spilled, and the inn’s kitchen was destroyed—this meal was officially over.

“…Sister Soho!”

And among the instigators of this chaos—the very boy himself—urgently called out Joharang’s old nickname.

“I want to submit a request! A designated request! Please, help our Byeok Clan!”

A direct, named request to a wanderer, no less.

I tapped Ilhong on the shoulder—who had her head bowed beside me—and asked,

“Hey, what kind of place is this Byeok Clan?”

“…Boss, do you remember the Great Thunderburst Bomb the Blood Cult used back in the day, and the Tiny Thunderburst Bomb I threw in the cave?”

“Oh, yeah. I remember.”

She meant those mini-bombs that, while not very powerful, snapped us out of confusion and dispelled a strange curse when we were chasing the Human-faced Spider in the cave.

“The Byeok Clan is the one that manufactures such firearms and black-powder weapons—Thunderburst Bombs—and supplies them directly to the court.”

“Ah, I see.”

So they were a royal-certified demolition group. No wonder that iron sphere popped out of his robes so naturally.

Black-powder weapons, if used without court authorization, could cause major trouble. So they were generally only used in places beyond the court’s influence—like Nanman—where there’d be no consequences.

“Sorry, I can’t accept your request right now.”

“But… Noona, why not…?”

Meanwhile, Joharang gave her refusal to the boy.

“I have someone else now who handles those things for me.”

Shaking her head as if troubled, she casually pointed toward me.

The boy’s eyes widened as if stunned—probably shocked that someone as young as me was commanding someone of Joharang’s caliber, a master at the level of Transcendence.

The boy from the Byeok Clan clearly wasn’t familiar with the ways of the world.

“Um… who are you, exactly…?”

Who am I?

I’m the employer of the formidable Shinpungdo Joharang—that is, Ja Misung—without pay, and I even steal her food.

“The greatest troubleshooter in all of Beijing.”

I was Dan Mujin, the Dog-Beating Dragon.

Garden of the Princess’s Palace, overflowing with the freshness of summer.

Amid the blooming plants and flowers, the Third Princess and Imperial Concubine Hwang—two noble women of the royal family—sat leisurely sharing tea and light conversation.

Unlike the Third Princess, whose face was stiff with concern over the rapidly shifting tides of the court, Imperial Concubine Hwang calmly enjoyed the scent of the tea leaves in the flower garden with graceful composure.

That woman—whose soft eyes curled gently and whose refined demeanor belied the passage of time—

She was Imperial Concubine Ma Juyoung, the woman the Son of Heaven currently adored the most.

“Juyeoyang, raise your head.”

She was also the birth mother of the Third Princess and the Third Prince—and one of the few who could speak casually with the Emperor.

As she savored her tea, the Imperial Concubine looked at her daughter with eyes full of affection.

“So lovely, truly… and yet a girl like you still hasn’t married. What are we to do?”

“…”

This isn’t what’s important right now. We should be on guard against the schemes of the Empress and the Second Prince.

That’s what the Third Princess wanted to say. But when she saw the pure concern in her mother’s eyes, her will to speak melted away.

Saying such things would only darken that clear expression—it would be meaningless.

She had always been like that. And perhaps because of that warmth, her children had been able to grow upright and true.

She could handle the undercurrents of palace intrigue alone. The Third Princess steeled her resolve silently.

“Imperial Concubine, Your Grace.”

“Oh my, what is with that cold title? Just call me Mother.”

“…”

Though palace etiquette demanded she avoid anything that might give the ministers ammunition against her, Imperial Concubine Hwang still spoke so casually.

But unable to resist her mother’s gaze, the daughter relented.

“Mother, what kind of things have you been discussing with the Emperor lately?”

Surprisingly, her mother was the closest one to the mysterious Son of Heaven and understood his intentions better than anyone.

Princess Peach Blossom cautiously posed the question to gauge his thoughts.

“Hmm, that man? Lately, he’s been talking a lot about beggars. He recently issued a decree allowing Beggars’ Union operatives to enter the palace, didn’t he?”

“Yes, that’s correct. Someone requested it of me, and I pleaded on their behalf.”

The Imperial Concubine’s eyes lit up with interest, curious about who that “someone” was.

But the Third Princess ignored the glance and continued asking questions.

“So then, he hasn’t spoken of anything else? Just focused on the Beggars’ Union?”

“Yes, that seems to be the case. He seems quite fascinated by beggars again.”

“…Again, Mother? What do you mean ‘again’?”

At that, the Imperial Concubine leaned her chin in her hand, as if recalling an old memory.

“He once took an interest in an old beggar… One day he came back fuming, saying he lost a game of Go. It was quite the sight.”

She smiled elegantly as she crunched on a snack from the table.

“But why does he find them so fascinating, I wonder? The highest man in the land, drawn to the lowest?”

“He’s… unpredictable in both thought and action.”

It was that very unpredictability that kept her chained to the palace, helpless to his whims. The Third Princess sighed.

“Oh dear, but that’s not quite true. He’s actually easy to understand, once you know him. He listens to me quite well—though most of our talks are just chit-chat.”

More than state affairs, he preferred listening to her idle chatter.

The Third Princess knew this already. Perhaps that was why the Empress’s jealousy and suspicion had risen so fiercely.

The Emperor’s affections had shifted to Imperial Concubine Hwang. And with the Crown Prince’s death drawing near, who else could be a greater threat to the Empress?

“Oh, right. Try this—it’s something called a date from the Western Regions. It’s sweeter than dried persimmon and quite tasty.”

It had first been presented to the Emperor, but had recently made its way to her palace—so she offered it with no suspicion.

The Third Princess’s expression grew conflicted as recent events came to mind.

“…Mother, did you inspect it first?”

“Hmm? Inspect? Whatever for?”

Naïve, almost childlike.

Even as deadly schemes and bloodlust tore through the palace, she responded so innocently.

Perhaps it was this very innocence that the Emperor found solace in amid the chaos.

A woman incapable of deception, even in dreams. There was none more precious in the palace.

“Even if it’s from the Emperor, I’d like it to be tested first.”

“You’ve been awfully worried lately… But if it’s from the Emperor, it’s fine.”

Her daughter, on the other hand, had grown up without that same purity—now filled with worries and anxieties.

“Even if he means no harm, poison can be slipped in by the many hands it passes through.”

The palace, a place filled with countless servants to support the nobility—meant nobles must be ever cautious of those very hands.

They had survived an assassination attempt recently thanks to one man’s intervention, but there was no guarantee of surviving the next.

The Third Princess laid out this explanation in detail, citing that previous incident.

She also mentioned that the Empress was the likely culprit behind that plot.

“Oh my, how dreadful… Surely the Empress wouldn’t go that far? Though… her eyes have been a bit fierce lately…”

Imperial Concubine Hwang widened her eyes in shock, visibly disturbed by the palace’s darkness.

“I just wanted to tell you to take better care of yourself. As your daughter.”

Expecting this kind of reaction, the Third Princess offered comforting words to ease her mother’s mind.

The Empress was her polar opposite. If this were just a noble household in some remote province, her mother could’ve lived a truly happy life.

But the imperial court was a den of wolves and demons, drawn by the scent of power.

To protect her younger brother, a prince, and ensure her mother’s safety—

‘I must remain vigilant.’

She needed to keep her guard up and scan everything around her with suspicion.

Otherwise, the Empress and her faction might literally wipe them all out.

The Third Princess had read all too many such tragic endings in the history books.

“Oh, and he said he’d like to see everyone’s faces again after a long time. Would autumn be a good time for a garden party?”

After stoking the flames of this powder keg called the palace, the Son of Heaven wanted to gather everyone under one roof—and Imperial Concubine Hwang took him at his word, as always.

“…Yes, I’ll make the arrangements.”

A garden party where all the high-ranking nobles would gather.

The perfect stage for something to go terribly wrong.

Which is why Princess Peach Blossom quietly pictured the face of one trustworthy man to prepare for what lay ahead.


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