Chapter 372. Don't Burst the Dumplings.

I arrived at Baek Eungji with Eldest Brother to get a meal.

After eating the food I made at our occupied inn a few times, Eldest Brother seemed to be feeling existential despair about life, so I chose to eat out.

Truthfully, this isn't a distance you can comfortably travel just for a meal. But I simply substituted the lightness skill training I had to do anyway with this.

In other words, I repeated the most ideal process of training so as not to starve to death every morning and lunch, which meant I was building solid muscle and dying in agony.

Life is suffering anyway.

The more you run, the hungrier you get, and the hungrier you are, the tastier the food. And on the way back, it aids digestion too, so it was a positive process. Eldest Brother, who apparently hated the food I made regardless, followed along without a word of complaint.

Remember. Bad food is this terrifying. A man called the Demon Sword has to run around just to eat. It means the noodles I make are scarier than the Demonic Cult's forces.

"……What should we eat?"

The Demon Sword looked at me.

"Choose whatever you like. Anything is fine."

It seemed anything was fine as long as I didn't make it, but I felt the same. I walked slowly with Eldest Brother through Baek Eungji, looking around.

Eldest Brother and I had similar tastes in choosing restaurants.

We first eliminated places crowded with too many customers. But we also didn't go into places with no customers at all. Nine times out of ten, there's someone like me in the kitchen. A place with a moderate number of customers, or an old restaurant, is better.

We grabbed a seat at a quiet Chinese restaurant, ordered food, and watched the street.

We propped the wooden sword and the Gwangmyeong Sword side by side against the table.

While waiting for the food, I put an empty chair in front of me and rested my legs on it.

Without much conversation, Eldest Brother and I watched passersby and merchants, and stared at the ordinary sky and ordinary daily life.

We maintained silence until the food came out.

When the ordered dishes were placed on the table, Eldest Brother asked.

"Didn't you order too much?"

"We'll just leave leftovers if we have to. We only eat one meal a day these days anyway. Let's stuff in as much as we can."

In the middle of eating the various dishes we'd ordered, Eldest Brother pointed at the sweet and sour pork with his chopsticks.

"Why do you like this so much?"

I looked at the Demon Sword.

"Our inn didn't have it."

"Hmm."

The Demon Sword nodded. I told him the trivial story of how I came to like sweet and sour pork while eating.

"It was hard to come by. One day I bought ingredients and tried making it myself. It wasn't as hard as I thought. I put it in a bowl, placed a small bottle of Dugangju beside it, picked up a piece with chopsticks and ate it, and then I thought: sweet and sour pork is something you buy. I swore I'd never make it again. And you know I keep my oaths."

The Demon Sword picked up a piece of sweet and sour pork with his chopsticks.

"Is this really that difficult to make?"

"I suppose I just lack skill."

The Demon Sword said as he chewed.

"It's so sweet, I don't think I can eat much of it."

I took the Dugangju the waiter brought and poured it into a cup.

"You have to get past the sweetness."

Eldest Brother drank the Dugangju, rinsed his mouth, and swallowed.

"In the Cult, you see, if an incident of poisoning food occurred internally, everyone in the kitchen and their three generations were exterminated. And there were people who tasted the food before serving, and separate people who tasted it after it went out. Did that stop poisoning incidents?"

I shook my head.

"They still happened, didn't they?"

"They did. But since that was the established rule, the three generations couldn't avoid extermination. After I became the Left Emissary, I had many servants, and among them was the youngest one. I realized later that I'd never even asked the brat's name. One day he wasn't around, and when I asked the others, the ones who normally answered well were flustered."

I poured Eldest Brother a drink and listened.

"When I asked again, they said he died while tasting the meal meant for me first."

"Hmm."

"They hid the fact that he died?"

The Demon Sword continued.

"Something like that. Only then did all the servants rush in and kneel down waiting before I could even say anything. Because it was a situation where one word from me could kill all the servants, or if things escalated, everyone who made the food could be massacred."

"What did you do?"

Eldest Brother answered flatly.

"I let it go."

"It couldn't have been easy?"

"It wasn't."

"Did you find them? Was it hard to dig into since it was a past matter?"

The Demon Sword shook his head.

"I couldn't. Because if I dug into it, it wouldn't be my servants dying, but everyone in the kitchen."

"That's how it goes. So the servants had many reasons to keep their mouths shut."

Eldest Brother looked at the dishes blankly as he ate.

"……One day while eating, I remembered that dead servant. It felt strange that I hadn't asked his name. Strange that he died in my place. I tried to look after his family if he had any, but he had no family or connections. He just died a futile death from poison. I can roughly guess. He must have been the family, brother, or disciple of those fighting to the death over the Left Emissary position. The problem was there were too many possible suspects. Where the death of a nameless servant began…… no matter how far back I traced, I couldn't see the end or reach a conclusion."

I looked at Eldest Brother's expression.

Eldest Brother said.

"When searching for the cause, I eventually remembered those I had killed. I learned how killing comes back to you. Even if it was something I did to survive. The ones the Cult Leader and I killed were all clans or factions competing for the position of Cult Leader, so assassination attempts against me and the Cult Leader were as natural as flowing water."

"It must be an endlessly repeating cycle."

"I thought everyone in the Cult feared the Cult Leader or me, but humans aren't like that. The moment someone resolves to lay down their life, even the Cult Leader looks like an ordinary person. There are many in the Demonic Way who have given their lives. When the Cult Leader first rose to the position of absolute master, he constantly suffered assassination attempts. There was even an assassin who suddenly appeared and challenged the Cult Leader, and no one learned his identity until he died by the Cult Leader's hand. Yet his skill was strong enough to challenge the Cult Leader."

"What did you think seeing that?"

"Even if you become the absolute master, you can't set the direction of your life to your own taste. You're left alone on the line of killing and being killed, advancing while continuing to kill. Until you die."

I nodded and finished eating with Eldest Brother. The rice didn't go down as smoothly as before, but I stuffed it in anyway. Half the food remained. After the waiter cleared the bowls, I rested with my feet on the chair again.

Watching the old man selling candied fruit, I asked Eldest Brother.

"Is the Cult wealthy?"

"Very."

"Why so much?"

"Because if you're not from an existing clan and want to join from the outside, you have to hand over half your property."

"Half? Is there a reason they'd bother handing over that much wealth to join?"

"There are clans that must join. The old main stronghold controls specific routes for trade with the Western Regions. If you're a merchant company, joining and using those trade routes lets you accumulate wealth incomparable to the half you offered up."

"So there are some clans that made money that way?"

"A few places. They even unite among themselves to expand their scale."

"Which ones?"

"Representatively, the Myeongcheonwiga and the Birok Sangdan."

"Do they really have to join hands with the Demonic Cult and insist on those routes?"

Eldest Brother nodded.

"There's much to do. Many in the Western Regions are persecuted because of religion. They relocate them to the Central Plains, and trade slaves too. They can bring in forbidden items without any sanctions, and if problems arise, the old main stronghold resolves them by force."

"Could the First Young Lord's maternal family be one of those forces? If the Cult Leader joined hands with them first, they must be a wealthy clan."

"That could be."

"Those crazy about martial arts leading those crazy about money, and those crazy about money learning martial arts again—that's another powerful Demonic Way. Anyway, completely ruining the Demonic Cult must be nearly impossible."

"What makes you say that?"

"Merchants are inherently more cautious and clever the wealthier they are. If the Demonic Way falters, they pose as ordinary merchants; if the Demonic Way rises, they show duplicitous loyalty to the Cult. Since they'll do anything for money, there must be a Demonic Way even within the Way of Commerce."

I made eye contact with the old man sitting in the street, then asked Eldest Brother.

"Eldest Brother, want some candied fruit?"

"I don't eat sweet things."

"It's not like we eat it every day."

I went to the old man, bought candied fruit, and came back. I poured them onto the table, picked one round candy stuck to a stick, and put it in my mouth. Eldest Brother rummaged through them and picked the smallest one to put in his mouth.

I said while looking at the old man.

"Sweet."

I looked at Eldest Brother.

"Are you worried there might be poison even in the candied fruit?"

Eldest Brother was looking at the old man. The old man gave an awkward smile toward Eldest Brother and nodded once. Then Eldest Brother nodded once too.

"There's no poison. Though that's obvious……."

I called over the passing waiter and pointed at the candied fruits. The waiter looked them over, picked one up, and said.

"Thank you."

A short while later, perhaps because there were no customers, the waiter sat nearby and watched the street with us.

Eldest Brother said while chewing candied fruit.

"These days."

"Yeah."

"I've been thinking of death less often these days. With a mindset like this, I can't tell if I've grown stronger or weaker than before."

I answered with a laugh.

"What kind of bullshit is that? It's not even depression."

Eldest Brother also said with a laugh.

"I know, right?"

Eldest Brother put an empty chair in front of him too and propped his legs up. Men with nothing to do and nothing to envy in the world—that's us.

"When death comes to mind, think of the noodles I made. That's hell."

Eldest Brother finally burst out laughing.

I laughed along too, sucking on the candied fruit. The kid waiter beside us cut into the conversation with a laugh.

"……You must be terrible at cooking."

I looked at the waiter and answered.

"Shut up."

"Yes."

"You tried it?"

"No."

"Where's a good place for dumplings around here?"

The waiter pointed to an alley across the street.

"If you go inside, there's a dumpling house. If you give me some errand money, I'll go buy some now. There are no customers anyway."

"Want to?"

"Yes."

I took out my money pouch and said.

"Then buy plenty of dumplings for yourself, the owner, and the cook to eat. Have ours wrapped up to carry easily. And don't burst the dumpling fillings while running."

"Understood."

The waiter, having received money, headed to the dumpling house. Eldest Brother muttered while picking another candied fruit.

"This is addictive."

"Brother, your teeth will rot. Stop eating."

Eldest Brother picked a round candy and put it in his mouth. A short while later, the waiter appeared from the alley carrying cloth bundles filled with dumplings in both hands.

"Hey, why are there so many dumplings?"

I said to the running waiter.

"You little punk, you're the dumpling house owner's son, aren't you?"

"I'm not? You gave me a lot of money, so I bought a lot."

"But this is too much."

The waiter set one bundle on the table, delivered the other to the kitchen, and came back.

"Thank you for the meal."

"Sure."

Just then, a hunched old woman came hurrying out of the alley, muttering something like a scolding.

"Dongseop, the change…… the change, you have to take the change."

The waiter yelled at the old woman crossing the street.

"Geez, Grandma. I told you to just keep it, why'd you bring it again?"

The old woman shouted back.

"The change is more than the dumplings cost, you brat. Was it an errand? Give them the change."

The old woman entrusted the change to the waiter and looked at me.

"Did you have him run an errand for dumplings?"

I nodded.

"Yes."

"Why did you give so much money?"

"Grandma."

"Yes."

"Have you heard of money madness?"

"I've heard of it."

"The money-mad young man is me."

She clapped and laughed loudly. She was a jolly old woman. I told Dongseop.

"Let her have it."

Dongseop handed the change to the old woman again. The old woman, clutching the money, raised her hand slightly.

"Hit the jackpot?"

"Let's go."

Dongseop supported the old woman and headed back to the dumpling house.

The two were pouring complaints at each other.

"I told you to just keep it, why'd you rush all the way out here. If you throw out your back, the medicine will cost even more."

I said while sucking on the candied fruit.

"I wonder where that money rolled in from. Since it's money from the Heukmyo-bang, it might be money the Daenachal scraped together. Or it could be money the Namak Nokrimmaeng had stockpiled. I don't know its origin."

Suddenly, I watched the alley with Eldest Brother. Dongseop was shoved out after getting kicked in the butt by someone. Then two guys appeared and smacked him on the head.

"If you saw us, you greet us, punk."

They were well-dressed local delinquents.

As if we had made a promise, I met eyes with Eldest Brother, then called out to the delinquents.

"Hey…… Hey!"

I barked, and the delinquents looked at me. Their faces hardened slightly as they looked down the alley, and three or four more came out. Then five or six of them swarmed over and spoke to me.

"What……?"

"What!"

A total of six stood before Eldest Brother and me, trying to act all intimidating, but the moment they spotted the wooden sword and the Gwangmyeong Sword, the atmosphere flipped instantly. Above all, some couldn't even open their mouths upon seeing Eldest Brother.

I looked around at the local delinquents and said.

"Why are you hitting him and making a scene? You wanna die?"

The six scratched their cheeks with sour expressions or avoided my gaze. I observed their attire, age, sly expressions, and atmosphere, then said.

"I remember all your faces."

"……."

"I'm Mongrang's brother. You guys are done for. I'll tell on you."

One of the men finally looked at me with a surprised expression.

"Huh?"

"I said I'm Mongrang's brother."

The six suddenly straightened their posture.

"Ah, sorry, Brother. We didn't recognize you."

"Sorry."

"Sorry, Brother."

Surprisingly, here Mongrang's name seemed more frightening than Eldest Brother's aura. Since he spent every day roaming the neighborhood, beating men and trying to pick up women, Mongrang of Baek Eungji must have had a notorious reputation rivaling the Ten Grandmasters of the Central Plains.

I pointed at Dongseop.

"Dongseop is Mongrang's cherished little brother. Apologize, before I bring over every shitbag around."

After watching the pathetic punk delinquents apologize to Dongseop, I said.

"Get the hell out, all of you."

"Yes."

After the pathetic punks disappeared, I met eyes with Eldest Brother. He had a bewildered expression too.

"Your disciple's notoriety is something else, huh?"

"Tell me about it."

I burst into hearty laughter together with Eldest Brother.