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Chapter 375. Surging Currents (7)
The Personnel Hall Master's position was one of the well-known cushy posts within the Murim Alliance.
A reasonable measure of power through personnel authority, a workload that was light outside of certain periods.
And even when personnel issues did arise, the Pavilion Masters usually resolved them internally, so all the Hall Master had to do was stamp the seal after the fact.
For these reasons, the current Personnel Hall Master would have liked nothing more than to keep extending his term.
Until he had to deal with this graduating class.
Еn̆umа̌. i d
"Again? They didn't submit their second-choice applications?"
"They say to wait. Because they don't know where their Unit Leader is going......"
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Unit Leader?
The staff member's absurd report sent the Hall Master's blood to a boil.
"What kind of nonsense is that?! And who the hell is this Unit Leader?"
"They say Jin So-un is their Life-or-Death Unit Leader."
W̆ еb̀n ovе̌l Е́ n ǔ m̌а̀_
"......"
The blood that had been boiling finally erupted.
"So what the hell does that even mean?!!"
He was the Personnel Hall Master, in charge of personnel across every organization in the Murim Alliance, and even he had never heard of a Life-or-Death "Unit."
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"I-I don't know either. In any case, they say they won't submit their applications until the Unit Leader submits his......"
"Have they all lost their minds?! Are they begging to get shipped off to branch offices? Ha!"
Ё ń ū m а
"......"
"That's it...... Fine, ship every last one of them to the branch offices! These brats have been coddled too long. They're walking all over us!"
The Personnel Hall Master's threat boomed through the hall, but the staff member regarded him with a distinctly sour expression.
Catching the look, the Hall Master jerked his head up.
"What?! What is it?!"
"If we do that, the other martial pavilions won't stay quiet."
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"What do you mean?!"
"This graduating class has fewer members than usual."
"But we always recruit more than enough!"
The Murim Alliance relied on Academy graduates, produced once every four years, to replenish its junior officers. For that reason, the Academy had always admitted roughly ten percent more students than the required number.
This meant popular pavilions were always flooded with more applicants than they could take, sparking fresh competition among graduates just to remain in the Alliance.
Those who fell short in ability or lost out in the competition were mercilessly shipped off to branch offices.
Ė nü m̀ а . і̀d̈
This was a perfect illustration of the survival-of-the-fittest logic that ruled the murim.
But what on earth was this situation......
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"We had the Black Forest incident this time."
"Ah......"
Only then did the Personnel Hall Master's eyes go wide.
He'd spent days and nights awake discussing compensation measures for the sudden casualties, and he'd managed to forget that very fact.
Еn um̊ ȧ
"Right now, the only pavilion that's filled its required numbers is the White Wolf Pavilion."
"......"
Ordinarily, the White Wolf Pavilion—which was perpetually understaffed because people would rather flee to branch offices than serve there—was the only one at full capacity.
Faced with this unprecedented and utterly absurd situation, the Personnel Hall Master couldn't even begin to figure out what to do.
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As he sat staring blankly into space, the staff member reeled his attention back in.
"For now, you'll need to persuade Student Jin So-un."
Én ũmӓ
"......Me?"
"Our staff members already tried and were all turned down."
"Haah......"
For a man who had only ever been on the receiving end of personnel favors, this was completely uncharted territory.
What's more, his own staff had already been rejected across the board.
He didn't imagine he'd fare much better, which only deepened his turmoil.
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And the biggest reason of all—
"You want me...... to go beg a disciple of the Taeul Sect?"
That damned pride of his was keeping him rooted in place.
"......"
The staff member made no effort to hide his withering expression—or rather, chose not to hide it.
While the situation remained frozen, the Personnel Hall staff grew more haggard by the day, their resentment toward their master swelling—yet the master himself remained blissfully unaware.
W̊ е̂ b̄ n̄ ô v̇еl̂ Еn u m а́
***
Thinking back to what I'd been doing around this time in my past life, the answer was absurdly simple: I'd already been inside the Murim Alliance.
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Gye Cheol-yeong, nearing graduation, had stepped forward and sent his junior brothers into the Alliance ahead of himself.
All to make his own life a little more comfortable.
At the time, the Taeul Sect had been in freefall after the humiliation dealt by the Iron Sword Sect, and with support from the Gyeryong Merchant Guild dwindling, we had no choice but to earn at least the Alliance's monthly stipend.
Cast out like goods to be sold, my generation of fellow disciples began our mandatory service with the Murim Alliance.
Е̄ ñú m̆а .і d̀_
'We didn't even get proper training.'
In the middle of lower-rank warrior training, Jegal So-myeong was suddenly assassinated, and the Alliance was thrown into upheaval.
At that point, the Demonic Cult's existence had yet to be revealed to the world, so his death remained unsolved—and that ignited an extreme schism within the Alliance.
The Righteous Path Association and the Orthodox Path Association pointed fingers at each other and drew their blades, and the Twelve Peak Citadels were torn apart in between.
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It was only later that the Yin-Yang Twin Demons were identified as the culprits, but by then the Murim Alliance had deteriorated to the point where calling it an alliance was a stretch.
'When I think about it, things are very different now.'
Е̌n̂ u̇ mа
The Yin-Yang Twin Demons were already dead, killed in the Black Forest, and the Demonic Cult was slowly showing its tail.
Even if the same events played out now, the kind of internal war that had consumed the Alliance in my past life probably wouldn't happen.
Of course, the fact that shadow wars were still erupting across the Central Plains—just as before—suggested that Jegal So-myeong's death had been nothing more than a pretext.
"Oh! Over here."
A voice broke my reverie, and I made my way toward Buk Won-pyeong, who was waving from one corner of a drinking house.
"The Three Pure Ones Peerless Sword is supposed to be a one-successor lineage, isn't it? You must be doing well for yourself."
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The Golden Sun Pavilion, one of Wuhan's three premier drinking houses, charged five times the rate of any other establishment.
And the one who'd chosen this venue was none other than Buk Won-pyeong.
"I hear the Taeul Sect's Eldest Senior Brother is famously wealthy. That's why I booked this place, Eldest Senior Brother."
Shit—pick one: casual or formal. Don't mix them.
"My aged junior brother is shrewd beyond words."
"You flatter me, Eldest Senior Brother."
Е̇ n̊ ǔ ṁа̂
While Buk Won-pyeong carried on with his banter, a man approached our table.
"Here are your warm towels."
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Unlike other establishments that used young servers, this place employed a middle-aged man who seemed thoroughly trained.
Perhaps because I'd never experienced anything like this, the whole thing made me oddly fidgety.
In any case, once a few decent side dishes and a richly aromatic wine arrived and the cups had made a few rounds, I gradually settled into the atmosphere.
As I grew accustomed, the surroundings came into focus one by one.
Ё ṅu mа
People dripping with flashy ornaments and dressed in fine fabrics. Others wearing swords and sabers inlaid with gold, silver, and jewels.
And then those who had nothing to flaunt on the outside but radiated tremendous presence, along with aging figures putting effort into looking hale.
Every one of them was the sort of person you rarely encountered in everyday life.
"Uncomfortable?"
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Buk Won-pyeong's question drew a wry smile out of me.
"Not at all."
W̆ е̃.b̈_ñ о v̂ ѐ l̇ Е n̂.um̄а
"Good. These are the people you'll have to deal with going forward."
"You said I'll have to 'deal with' them?"
My response made Buk Won-pyeong look puzzled.
I drained my cup in one go and swept my gaze across the room.
A second life.
I know who moves the murim. I know how they ruined it.
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And I'm fighting tooth and nail precisely to prevent a repeat.
Deal with them?
Dealing with them was never the plan.
They're all things to be smashed apart.
Someone would call me insane for talking like this.
Which was exactly why I hadn't told a soul.
Ē ñ ú m̊а̀
"Why the look? Surely you don't think someone in your position can just coast along?"
"......"
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I turned my gaze back to the crowd.
I hadn't noticed before, but they were stealing glances this way.
Was it because our presence felt out of place? Or for some other reason?
As my expression darkened, Buk Won-pyeong quietly ran a finger along his cup and asked softly.
Ĕ nūm̈a
"......Are you harboring different thoughts?"
I didn't answer.
If I gave the answer he wanted, I'd be making myself a liar. If I told him what I truly intended, he'd think me insane.
"I heard from the Personnel Hall Master. You still haven't submitted your second or third choice applications."
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"There's an answer I need to hear from someone."
This was a signal to the Alliance Leader.
Wѐ b̄ñо v̈е l Еṅ ūm а́
Whether it was out of consideration or because he wanted something in return, I didn't know—but I needed to hear what I had to do to get into the White Wolf Pavilion.
If I just went wherever without thinking, who knew when I'd ever make it back.
This was an action taken for his sake.
My unwavering eyes made Buk Won-pyeong's expression grow more serious.
"So it wasn't simply that you didn't know where to go."
"I don't live that thoughtlessly."
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"Hmm...... Perhaps I'm about to make a mistake with you today."
"What do you mean?"
Buk Won-pyeong let out a long sigh.
"Forgive me, all the same. My debts to those people are too great. Think of it as your aged junior brother's blunder."
"My aged junior brother has quite the charm."
He smirked at that, then rose first and led the way.
Ѐn̄ùmà . і̆ d̊
I followed in silence, grumbling inwardly.
'Why are there so many people selling me out these days?'
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The rear of the building had been landscaped into a garden, much like the Pine Blossom Pavilion.
The difference was that small waterways branched throughout the garden like springs, and the pavilion structures had nothing but awning curtains in place of walls.
Though the weather had improved considerably, it didn't seem like a suitable place to drink outdoors.
But each pavilion had a hollowed-out wooden hearth at its center, which not only kept the cold at bay but lent the space an air of refinement.
Ėn û m а̀ . і̃ d.
"I did use the word 'debts,' but I'm proposing this as a Lay Disciple of the Taeul Sect, because I believe it could benefit the sect. I sent several letters to the Taeul Sect, but the only reply that came back was 'I'm busy, so ask him.' Honestly, what could possibly keep them that occupied? Tsk."
Moonlight cast deep shadows across Buk Won-pyeong's grumbling face.
"The events happening throughout the murim...... I don't believe they're caused by the 'real' enemy."
Buk Won-pyeong spoke slowly as we walked through the long garden path.
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"We're fighting 'fakes.' But the fighting is real. Every day that passes, another sect is exterminated."
His deep sigh carried the weight of his worry.
Е̄ n um̂ а.і d
"A powerful external enemy called the Black Thought Alliance has emerged. And yet, why does this senseless internal war continue—one where there are no winners, only waste?"
"Because they believe the Black Thought Alliance is no match for the Murim Alliance."
Across five hundred years of history, enemies like the Black Thought Alliance had appeared before. But every one of them had eventually knelt before the Murim Alliance and vanished.
That was what made them dismiss the Black Thought Alliance—and the Demonic Cult lurking in the shadows—as nothing more than a passing drizzle.
The Murim Alliance and the Orthodox Path were patients afflicted with an incurable disease called "arrogance."
"Exactly. Failing to recognize the enemy even when it stands before you is the same as facing chaos with no defenses. And the coming tide of chaos...... looks like it will surge rather high."
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"Are you saying the people we're about to meet could be part of the defense?"
Buk Won-pyeong nodded quietly.
"Had this been the old Taeul Sect, an opportunity like this would never have come. Perhaps Kang Chae-seok was right to tell them to ask you. After all, this opportunity exists because of your abilities."
"An opportunity......"
I mouthed the word several times over.
Opportunity.
Е ñŭ mа̃
It was a word that made the heart quicken by instinct.
And that was exactly why despair always wore the mask of opportunity when it appeared before people, fooling them with ease.
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Which was why I had to weigh and weigh again the true nature of this "opportunity" laid before me.
"Go on in."
"Aren't you coming in?"
"The opportunity hasn't been extended to me."
W е̃bn о v́ е̌l̇ Ӗn.ŭḿa
"Not even to the successor of the Three Pure Ones Peerless Sword?"
"They already have the Tendon-Changing Classic and the Taiji Bright-Yang Classic as superior alternatives."
"I see now why you called it an opportunity."
Leaving the oddly forlorn Buk Won-pyeong behind, I stood before the pavilion entrance.
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As I moved to part the bamboo blinds and enter, they slid open on their own.
There was no mechanism pulling them, and no person in sight.
Wе b̃ n̊ о́v е̃ľ Ẽñ ûm̌ å
'Using Airborne Object Grasping like this?'
As a show of dominance, it was rather impressive.
Stepping inside, I found shadows from the central hearth dancing across the interior, just as in the other pavilions.
I raised my head and slowly surveyed the room.
Eight people sat in a semicircle around the hearth, their eyes fixed on me.
I looked back at their faces squarely.
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"......"
An uneasy silence fell.
The firelit features of the eight figures began to harden.
"No manners."
The man on the far right parted his lips, and simultaneously—
BOOM—
Ĕ n u m̊ а .id̂
He unleashed his aura.
This must have been the one who moved the blinds.
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That same peculiar force was now pressing down on my knees and shoulders.
His voice was imperious as he commanded me.
"A greeting, and an introduction."
Trying to force me to my knees while demanding an introduction he surely already knew.
Еn̈ ůmа́
"When addressing your elders, that is what you're taught to do, is it not?"
Well.
"Hard to say, when I don't even know who you are."
I had already figured out their identities, but I feigned ignorance.
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Because their entitled attitude disgusted me.
At my reply, the man intensified his aura further.
Ёń um̂a
"It seems the rumors of your intelligence were just that—rumors."
My knees were trembling.
They felt ready to buckle at any moment, but I held my ground as though nothing were amiss and spoke.
"Given this arrogant posturing, might you be from the Righteous Path Association, by any......"
"......"
The pressure on my shoulders and knees swelled, proving my guess correct.
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