Murim Login - Chapter 443

A ten-day voyage was by no means an easy journey.

This wasn’t some large cruise ship but a wooden vessel, with musty cabins and damp decks being their only spaces to traverse. Ports? Due to the tight schedule, they sailed forward without stopping. Under such circumstances, not only Jeok Cheon-Gang but even the river bandits, whose home turf was the Yangtze River, seemed relieved.

Of course, there was one person among them who was the happiest of all.

“Oh, finally…”

Mu Song, who had been forcibly dragged to Hubei Province as part of what he called “compulsory talent donation,” trembled with emotion.

Having been despondent since the sinking of one of their fast ships, he now seemed to forget all his hardships and shouted with a powerful voice:

“Drop anchor! Quickly, get me off this cursed…”

Jeok Cheon-Gang, who had been nodding in satisfaction, looked at Mu Song.

“Cursed?”

Mu Song, realizing he had blurted out his true feelings, frantically shook his head at an unbelievable speed.

“N-No! I was talking about the Yangtze River!”

“Of course, the Yangtze River. That’s exactly what I meant too.”

“You wouldn’t mean we’re cursed, right?”

“N-No way, not at all.”

But it looked like it very well could be.

While Mu Song sweated profusely under Jeok Cheon-Gang’s narrowing gaze, the river bandits, sensing the plight of their leader, moved swiftly.

As the fast ships gradually slowed and anchored in a row, a small murmur arose among the people gathered near the harbor.

“That flag…”

“It’s the Yangtze River Waterway League! The Yangtze River Waterway League!”

“What does it say below that? Water Dragon Stronghold? Never heard of it.”

“It’s a stronghold based in Sichuan. It’s run by none other than Mu Song, the second disciple of the Sea King, also known as Seonhwa-a.”

“Now that you mention it, I think I’ve heard of it. But why are those guys, who should be in Sichuan, here in Hubei?”

“How would I know? Damn river bandits. Things are already tense enough around here…”

“Shh, be quiet. Some young guy is looking this way. Nothing good comes from getting tangled up with martial artists.”

The group of merchants who had made eye contact with me hastily scattered.

It wasn’t just them. A fisherman with a sunburned face hurriedly gathered his nets and retreated, while a fish vendor folded up his stall at lightning speed.

In the distance, a government official clad in ceremonial robes, flanked by guards, was observing us intently.

Their eyes were filled with blatant wariness.

‘What is this…? The atmosphere is completely different from Sichuan.’

The Yangtze River Waterway League, no matter how rooted in plunder it might be, was a structured and rule-abiding group.

They didn’t attack indiscriminately, killing and looting everything. Instead, they sometimes protected ships from true lawless bandits and typically only charged a set toll for passage.

‘Even during the Great War, they tested the waters a bit but ultimately sided with the orthodox sects.’

Give and take.

During the chaotic times when Murim’s fate hung in the balance, the Yangtze River Waterway League had backed the orthodox sects and even greased the palms of the authorities.

Thus, they were tolerated by both sides—essentially a mercenary gang operating under the guise of legitimacy.

Of course, that didn’t mean they were good people. But in the wild world of Murim, where all sorts of madmen ran amok, they were at least tolerable. If not gentlemen, they were closer to respectable rogues.

‘That’s why the common folk in Sichuan didn’t react much to them.’

They treated them like annoying but familiar pests—certainly not with the blatant avoidance happening now.

I tilted my head as I watched the people scatter.

‘Is it just a regional difference in attitude?’

But if that were the case, Mu Song’s expression seemed far too serious.

Frowning deeply, he looked around the now-empty harbor before summoning his right-hand man.

“Have we heard nothing from our brothers?”

“No, Chief. They must’ve known we were coming, but there’s been no communication whatsoever.”

“Not even from Dangyang Stronghold or Hongho Stronghold?”

“None, sir.”

“Of all places, Dongting Stronghold should have sent word. My uncle is stationed there. There’s no way he wouldn’t know we’re here…”

Muttering with a grave expression, Mu Song issued orders to his subordinate.

“After disembarking, send swift men to investigate. Also, contact the local brothers immediately.”

“Yes, Chief.”

At Mu Song’s gesture, the river bandits sprang into action. Having completed our preparations to disembark early, we followed suit.

Jeok Cheon-Gang, eager to leave the Yangtze behind, took the lead. Behind him were myself, Jin Wi-gyeong, Cheongpung, Hyeok Mu-jin, and Gong Gi-bang.

Moon Kyung, blending into the surroundings like a shadow, tagged along as well.

Finally free from the Yangtze River, Jeok Cheon-Gang’s face lit up with a radiant smile.

“Ah, finally! This is why people need to live on solid ground.”

But Jeok Cheon-Gang’s joy didn’t last long.

“Hold it right there!”

A voice laden with authority rang out. A government official approached, nervously gulping. Behind him stood hundreds of guards.

Clearing his throat, the official puffed up his chest and spoke.

“I’ve heard rumors that you came from Sichuan. Is that correct?”

“Correct?” Jeok Cheon-Gang blinked as he repeated the question.

“Surely, you’re not addressing me with that tone?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Yes, you are?”

—

The official’s gaze wavered nervously but quickly regained its composure as he raised his voice.

“Answer only what is asked! Where did you come from, and what is your purpose here? Speak truthfully and without omission!”

“Answer? Speak without omission?” Jeok Cheon-Gang repeated, his voice tinged with incredulity.

“Wait… Are you speaking to me?”

“Yes, I am!”

“Yes, you are?” Jeok Cheon-Gang’s tone grew heavier as he stared at the official, who flinched but quickly straightened up, as though forcing himself to maintain his resolve.

“Y-Yes, I am!”

“Hmm,” Jeok Cheon-Gang muttered, his expression unreadable.

“No, don’t do it. Please stop,” I thought as I silently pleaded with him not to escalate the situation.

It was well known that when Jeok Cheon-Gang repeated things in that tone, people tended to freeze in fear. While some women might find it charming, to most it felt like the opening scene of a horror story.

Before Jeok Cheon-Gang could unleash his temper, I quickly stepped in.

“Why don’t you speak with me instead?” I interjected.

The official’s eyes narrowed, scanning me briefly before scoffing.

“I have no business speaking with a wet-behind-the-ears brat!”

“Well, you were about to be turned into ash by him,” I thought to myself but suppressed the retort.

Instead, I took a deep breath and calmly replied, “Yes, we’re from Sichuan, and we have business here.”

“What kind of business could that possibly be?” the official demanded suspiciously.

“About that…”

Before I could finish, a bright and cheerful voice suddenly cut through the tension.

“Steamed fish covered in crushed chili peppers!”

“Cheongpung, you idiot!” I snapped.

“What? It’s really good, benefactor! You eat it, and it’s so good that you won’t even notice if one of you dies midway through!”

Whether it was good enough to die for or not, it was clear the official thought we were people who ought to die.

The official’s face turned a furious shade of red as he roared, “You dare mock me, an official of this province?”

“Wait, sir, that’s not what he meant—”

“Carrying the flag of the Yangtze River Waterway League all the way from Sichuan, and for what? To eat fish? You’re clearly criminals who would mock even the heavens. Guards! Arrest these men at once!”

“By your command!”

Before I could react, chaos broke out. Hundreds of highly disciplined soldiers, spears at the ready, surrounded us in a flash.

Clicking his tongue lightly, Jin Wi-gyeong stepped forward.

“How impatient,” he muttered.

Even by modern standards, Jin Wi-gyeong’s towering figure and broad shoulders would stand out. In Murim, his physique was akin to that of a giant.

The official’s throat bobbed nervously as he took in Jin Wi-gyeong’s imposing frame.

“W-Who are you?” he stammered.

“I am Jin Wi-gyeong, of the Taiyuan Jin family in Shanxi Province,” Jin Wi-gyeong declared. “I’ll keep this brief—don’t you think it’s best to call off your men now?”

Before the official could respond, Jin Wi-gyeong’s heavy voice continued.

“Judging by your demeanor, it seems you haven’t been informed. We are martial artists traveling with the direct permission of the Lord of Sichuan Province.”

“The Lord of Sichuan Province?”

“Yes. If you doubt me, you’re welcome to verify it. But in the meantime, I suggest you stand down. There’s no need for unnecessary bloodshed.”

At Jin Wi-gyeong’s calm and authoritative tone, the spears of the surrounding soldiers trembled slightly. They clearly understood they were outmatched.

Even so, pride often overpowered reason. The official’s face tightened as he forced himself to stand firm.

“You dare…! Do you even know who you’re speaking to?”

Jin Wi-gyeong’s expression remained impassive as he replied.

“I know exactly who you are. Based on your attire, you’re a Sixth Rank Inspector under the Department of Justice for Hubei Province.”

The official froze as Jin Wi-gyeong continued.

“You oversee legal and administrative matters, correct? But what brings a man of your station all the way out here to harass innocent people?”

The official’s lips trembled, unable to form a coherent response.

“Oh, by the way,” Jin Wi-gyeong added, “are you acquainted with someone by the name of Hong Cheon?”

“W-Who?” the official stammered.

“Hong Cheon. I’ve heard he was recently appointed as the Commissioner of Justice for this province.”

“Y-Yes, that’s correct… He was appointed not long ago.”

“Ah, I see. I recall hearing about him. He was promoted from Assistant Secretary of the Six Ministries in Shanxi to Commissioner here in Hubei. Quite an accomplishment.”

The official swallowed hard. “D-Do you have a connection to him?”

Jin Wi-gyeong offered a faint smile. “We’ve shared a few drinks. I’ve helped him out a couple of times.”

The official’s face turned pale.

“W-What else?”

“Is there anything else you’d like to know?” Jin Wi-gyeong asked coolly.

“N-No! That’s more than enough!” The official bowed deeply, his previous arrogance nowhere to be seen.

The official, now pale and visibly shaken, hastily bowed repeatedly to Jin Wi-gyeong. Turning sharply, he barked at his guards.

“You fools! What are you standing around for? Lower your weapons immediately!”

“Yes, sir!”

“How dare you embarrass me like this! You’re lucky I’m showing restraint!” he scolded them, all the while keeping his head lowered in apology.

Turning back to Jin Wi-gyeong, he added, “Please, forgive our rudeness and lack of understanding.”

Jin Wi-gyeong patted the official’s shoulder with a benevolent smile. “It’s all right. Everyone makes mistakes like this from time to time.”

“Your magnanimity is as vast as the ocean, sir!” the official exclaimed, bowing even lower.

“However,” Jin Wi-gyeong continued, “you should direct your apologies to these esteemed figures. Especially to the elder you first addressed so rudely.”

“I-I didn’t realize… Might I ask for his esteemed title?”

“This is Jeok Cheon-Gang, the Fire King,” Jin Wi-gyeong replied calmly. “He is one of Murim’s most respected figures.”

The official’s face turned ashen as he staggered backward, barely keeping his balance.

“F-Fire King… Jeok Cheon-Gang?” he stammered, his voice cracking with disbelief.

“Yes. He recently traveled straight from Sichuan aboard a Yangtze River Waterway League ship to Hubei. Of course, it wasn’t just for steamed fish,” Jin Wi-gyeong added with a faint smirk.

“Please, enough,” I thought silently as I watched the official’s face twist in sheer despair.

The official, looking as though he might burst into tears at any moment, suddenly began bowing at an almost inhuman speed. With his back nearly folding in half, he muttered hurried apologies, repeating them over and over again.

Meanwhile, Jin Wi-gyeong nudged me gently in the ribs.

“Well, little brother, what do you think? Isn’t your big brother impressive?”

“…You’d be much more impressive if you didn’t say things like that,” I muttered under my breath.

“Connecting with the authorities makes life so much easier. If you ever find yourself in trouble, don’t hesitate to use my name,” Jin Wi-gyeong said, clearly proud.

It seemed Jin Wi-gyeong’s influence and connections ran deep. According to Gong Gi-bang, the rapid rise of the Taiyuan Jin family was practically unprecedented in Murim history. Even now, Jin Mu-gyeong was undoubtedly back at the Taiyuan residence, pushing through grueling training sessions. If Jin Mu-gyeong was a genius of martial arts, then Jin Wi-gyeong was the complete package—a leader equipped with both strength and diplomacy.

“Isn’t your big brother amazing, little one? Hm?” Jin Wi-gyeong asked again, his grin growing wider.

“Yes, except for comments like that,” I replied flatly.

As I struggled to push the increasingly smug Jin Wi-gyeong away, a voice filled with profound energy rang out.

“Step aside.”

The voice carried enough force to part the crowd, which had been gathered at a distance, like waves. Dozens of martial artists, exuding formidable energy, strode toward us in synchronized steps.

‘What’s this…?’

I narrowed my eyes at the group as they drew closer. Each of them wore white silk martial robes, adorned with elegant script embroidered like drifting clouds.

The words on their robes read: **Zhuge Family (제갈세가).**