Reincarnated Sword Ghost

Chapter 95

Gate Leader Conference

Yang Se-ok's face showed utter shock.

So, the new master of the Iron-Blood Gate was this boy standing before him?

The Iron-Blood Gate that ran rampant in Kaifeng, having the District Head of the imperial clan behind them?

"You—Young Hero Yu... what on earth is..."

His voice barely came out. It had only been two days since Jeong-un arrived at the Yang Clan.

That wasn't even enough time to get a grasp of the situation.

Yet, in that short span, he had swallowed up an entire sect?

If he hadn't already heard Punggae of the Beggar's Union mention it, he might have dismissed even a Heavenly Martial Hall warrior's words as nonsense.

"I was told the Musan Group leader's residence is a closely guarded secret. There's no way an outsider like me, just arrived in town, could uncover something that even the Yang Clan, settled here for generations, doesn't know."

"So, then?"

When Yang Se-ok asked back with a dazed expression, Jeong-un continued in a calm tone.

"So I decided to put myself in a position where I could meet the Gate Leader face-to-face. I was lucky. I caused a bit of a stir, and the Iron-Blood Gate Leader showed up in person. I killed him right in front of his subordinates."

"......!"

Yang Se-ok gasped, doubting his own ears.

"Y-You killed him in front of his men?"

"Yes."

"And they just stood by and did nothing?"

Jeong-un shook his head at Yang Se-ok's question.

"One of them did charge at me."

Yang Se-ok nodded at that.

It was only natural. Their boss had been killed right in front of them.

Even men without loyalty wouldn't just stand idly by.

But at what followed, Yang Se-ok froze.

"I smashed in his head."

"... Pardon?"

Jeong-un spoke on indifferently.

"I figured a more definite show of force was needed, so I deliberately used fist-and-palm arts."

"A show of force?"

"Fist-and-palm arts aren't usually my specialty, but fortunately their skills were so lacking that it sufficed as a warning. When the strongest among them dies a gruesome death, it's only natural for the rest's morale to break. One of my comrades often uses such methods and I happened to recall that."

"..."

"There were still a few minor protests afterwards, but I dealt with them without much trouble. Since they hold to the law of the jungle, things actually became easier to handle."

Jeong-un, his tone completely composed, then added as if he'd just recalled something.

"And there's no need to worry about my identity being revealed. I made very sure to cover that area."

"Cover? How..."

Even in his dazed state, Yang Se-ok asked back confused. How could he not have been identified, after doing all that in front of so many people?

But Jeong-un shook his head with a troubled look.

"That, I can't explain. But one thing I can promise—the names of neither myself nor Young Hero Yang will ever come up."

"..."

"In any case, sorry, but I'll have to ask you to leave now. I just became Gate Leader today and still have matters to deal with."

"Ah—yes, of course."

As Yang Se-ok nodded blankly, Jeong-un politely performed the martial salute.

It was the least courtesy one could show when sending out the master of the house.

Yang Se-ok, almost on instinct, returned the salute and turned to go, as if in a trance.

Tap.

With a dazed expression, Yang Se-ok stepped outside, stood vacantly in the corridor, and muttered to himself.

'... What sort of person did I invite in here?'

* * *

This is an era where martial prowess utterly overshadows the civil arts.

Even in broad daylight, swords hung from the waists of men passing openly through the streets.

Minor quarrels frequently escalated into small-scale bloodbaths. The difference could be felt on one's own skin.

Naturally, society placed higher value on mighty warriors than on scholars who could just read and write.

That being the case, anyone who could even awkwardly recite from a book and speak smoothly got called a "strategist" wherever they went.

Amidst brute sword wielders, mere clever packaging of one's words was enough to be recognized as talent.

Soo Il-san of the Iron-Blood Gate was just such a person.

He'd studied since childhood, but wasn't fit for government office. Instead, he was quick-witted, crafty.

Realizing his own limits early, he decided to seek wealth and power by other means than officialdom.

And so, he entered Kaifeng's criminal underworld.

The reason was simple. In the prestigious orthodox sects, competition was too fierce.

Their bloodline descendants could recite the Four Books and Five Classics from youth.

There was simply no room for a half-baked man like Soo Il-san to squeeze in.

But the underworld was different. Most literate men avoided either the underworld or Evil Faction.

To Soo Il-san, it was ludicrous to see those with nothing still fussing about pointless honor even as they starved.

He was ambitious.

He was sure that among those uneducated thugs who only swung swords, his half-baked skills would shine.

His prediction was spot on.

After several years, he had risen to the position of strategist for the Iron-Blood Gate, one of the pillars of Kaifeng's underworld.

'Damn it, just what the hell is going on...'

But now, Soo Il-san stood sweating coldly, unable to enter in front of the lavish doors of Divine Wind Pavilion.

No, it was only natural to hesitate. To just barge in at a time like this would be even stranger.

'What in the world happened overnight?'

He'd spent last night late, settling the Iron-Blood Gate's books—managing the group's assets, laundering funds.

He was the only one in the Iron-Blood Gate who could do such work.

Even though it was hard, he never refused. Doing something only he could do proved his own value.

In the midst of that, he'd heard that Gate Leader Neung Ji-mak had rushed to Divine Wind Pavilion.

He'd thought nothing much of it, just figured Neung Ji-mak had gone to bash someone's head in again—he was the sort to get personally involved in even trivial matters.

But just one night had passed, and now—

He'd heard a thunderbolt crash over his head.

One of his subordinates, white as a sheet, had frantically shaken him awake and blurted out the absurd news:

― T-the Gate Leader has died!"

The Iron-Blood Gate's sky had changed overnight. And to some unknown brat, at that.

'That sly fox Neung Ji-mak? And that brute Jodal had his head cracked open? Never mind martial level, was there even anyone in Kaifeng who could dare do such a thing? If some outsider did this not knowing better, the Black Hand Gate or Ghost Face Gate would eat him alive. Was it really an ignorant outsider who caused all this?'

Right now, the Musan Group's succession struggle was at its peak.

Even if someone managed to snatch up a Gate Leader seat while the Musan Group Leader didn't intervene, there was no way the other factions, like the Black Hand Gate or Ghost Face Gate, would just sit quietly while the Iron-Blood Gate was thrown into chaos.

'Was this really done by a clueless outsider...?'

The sects of Kaifeng were entangled like a spider's web.

The moment this got out to the rival factions, they'd pounce like hungry wolves.

'... Damn it. If only, I might have vied for the Musan Group's strategist seat!'

After much indecision, Soo Il-san finally swallowed dryly and opened the brothel's door.

For now, that person was the new Gate Leader.

Supposedly, he'd already won almost instant loyalty from half the disciples.

Looking into his identity could wait—no sense in angering him.

Soon, he stood before the office that Neung Ji-mak had used on the fifth floor—now welcoming its new master.

He was just about to announce himself—

"Come in."

A voice sounded from inside first.

'...!'

How did he know?

Had someone he'd met on his way given notice?

Suppressing his doubts, Soo Il-san slowly pushed open the door.

"My respects to the Gate Leader."

As soon as he entered, Soo Il-san bowed so his forehead nearly touched the floor, not daring to lift his gaze.

He had no martial talent.

He'd only barely managed, after suffering endlessly in the Iron-Blood Gate, to finally sense some true ki in his breath—and that was his limit.

Even third-rate mind methods, he'd learned only under duress for his health.

He hadn't the slightest thought of defying the monster who had crushed Jodal's head.

"I hear you're well-versed in the Musan Group's regulations and procedures."

"Yes."

"Today, I've become the new master of the Iron-Blood Gate. I hear we're in an alliance with other sects—do I need to do anything special now?"

Such an utterly ludicrous question. Did he really think he could just let this pass quietly after pulling such a stunt?

Suppressing his rising feelings, Soo Il-san quietly answered.

"According to Musan Group's rules, when a subordinate gate changes leaders, notifications must be sent to the other two. Then, the leaders of the Iron-Blood Gate, Black Hand Gate, and Ghost Face Gate all meet together, and at that gathering, the new Gate Leader is formally announced. Only after gaining their recognition is the procedure complete."

"So a Gate Leader's seat has to be recognized by others?"

The icy voice prompted Soo Il-san to hurriedly bow deeper.

"That's the set regulation. Though our Iron-Blood Gate has an independent force, we are, in the end, only a part of the great alliance known as the Musan Group. The disciples too, take more pride in belonging to the Musan Group than just the Iron-Blood Gate. Not following these procedures would cause great unrest both inside and out..."

Thud.

Soo Il-san's words abruptly stopped.

He fell to his knees, crushed to the floor by a torrent of vital ki, unable even to groan under the pressure—something he'd never felt before.

'C-crazy...'

Above his bowed head, a cold voice descended.

"Absurd. How can the master of a sect have to be recognized by others? Especially by rivals."

"M-my apologies! But it's the Musan Group's long tradition...."

"I get it. It's to keep the balance, so they force rivals to bite at each other."

"...?"

At the cryptic words, Soo Il-san inwardly tilted his head but dared not raise it.

Just then, the crushing pressure lifted.

"When does this meeting happen?"

"Usually, the other two arrange a date and notify us."

"... Unbelievable. Not only do I need their acknowledgment, but they even pick the date?"

Jeong-un's voice was full of displeasure. An ordinary person would just keep silent, waiting for his anger to subside.

But Soo Il-san was different.

He knew this was a chance—to sense his master's feelings and offer a solution.

That was the way to win a strategist's favor.

"You needn't worry overly. As you say, it's a farce for another household to comment on its master. Usually, they just show their faces out of formality and that's it."

"Just a formality?"

Soo Il-san hurriedly nodded and continued.

"Yes. It's essentially just a chance for introductions. Even if they refused to acknowledge you, it wouldn't dethrone you from the position..."

"You said they set the date?"

Interrupting, Jeong-un asked, and Soo Il-san quickly answered,

"Yes, that's right. If you just wait, a letter will arrive, typically with about five days' notice so you can prepare..."

"You can read and write, can't you?"

"Yes!"

This was his area of expertise—his voice brightened without him realizing.

"Right now, draft letters to the Black Hand Gate and Ghost Face Gate."

"What should I...?"

"Tell them that I'll decide the date."

"...!"

He almost looked up in shock. Holding back a retort, Soo Il-san asked in a trembling voice,

"Wh-what date should I write?"

"Tonight."

"... Pardon?"

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=

Jeon-un is on a speedrun....

【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】