Murim Login - Chapter 505

The sails billowed greatly as the northwesterly wind blew from afar.

The rough, muscular river bandits rowed in unison, their synchronized strokes propelling the ship forward. The waves split apart at the prow, churning into white foam that repeatedly disappeared and reformed.

‘It feels peaceful, as if nothing ever happened.’

Perhaps it was because of all the recent bloodshed, but today, the endless expanse of the Yangtze River felt particularly beautiful.

As if reading my mind, Jeok Cheon-Gang, standing beside me, spoke.

“This landscape remains as wretched as ever.”

“If I had to pick two things that should disappear from the world immediately, it would be Dark Heaven and the Yangtze River.”

So much for reading my thoughts.

Honestly, it’s kind of nice in its own way—how he never changes.

I sighed as I looked at his crimson hair fluttering in the wind.

“Don’t sigh so loudly. The ground—”

“Sighing a little won’t make the ground cave in.”

“No, but you’ll drop dead by my hand before you even set foot on land.”

“Wow, that’s way off from what I expected.”

“I haven’t seen you around lately, and it seems you’ve forgotten how to open your eyes properly. Your eyeballs might as well have ‘fire’ and ‘hand’ written on them. What should I do about that?”

“Actually, it’s ‘back’ and ‘shadow’…”

“Oh? Would you prefer ‘foot’ and ‘strike’ instead?”

“Ah… no.”

Whoosh— Smack!

“Ow!”

A flash of pain burst through my skull.

I clutched the back of my head with a short cry, making Jeok Cheon-Gang flinch.

“I-I didn’t even hit you that hard, stop exaggerating.”

“Exaggerating? You think this is exaggeration? My skull is throbbing like a drum!”

“…Your skull is throbbing?”

“No matter how tough I am, I’m still human, you know?”

“…Did it hurt that much? I didn’t mean to hit that hard. Let me see.”

Watching Jeok Cheon-Gang fidget anxiously like a dog needing to relieve itself made me chuckle.

“Why are you laughing?”

“No reason.”

…

“Oh, I’m all healed. More importantly, how long until we reach Henan?”

Seeing me casually change the subject, Jeok Cheon-Gang’s face turned red.

“You brat, are you toying with me?!”

Smack!

“Ow! That really hurts!”

“Just take the beating!”

Yeah, it really did hurt.

And yet, for some reason, I couldn’t stop smiling.

‘Did I… miss this?’

Perhaps.

Sometimes, the smallest, most mundane things become precious memories.

For me, it was the scratchy feel of my father’s stubble when I was a child—something I once hated but later longed for.

And now, it was Jeok Cheon-Gang’s strikes—once slow and weak, but now regaining their former strength.

Smack!

The sheer force of his youthful vigor made me laugh even harder.

‘This is nice…’

Smack! Smack! Smack!

“…Wait a second.”

“You dare mock me?!”

“Gah!”

…Actually, maybe it’s not that nice.

I mean, a little pain is fine, but this is definitely overkill.

The grin I had worn like a madman vanished instantly.

As Jeok Cheon-Gang’s thick palms continued to rain down, I desperately twisted my body to evade him.

And then—

“Uh… Should I come back later?”

A sudden voice cut through the chaos, making Jeok Cheon-Gang freeze mid-motion.

Seizing the opportunity, I swiftly dodged behind the newcomer, using him as a shield.

Flustered by the abrupt situation, my dear meat shield—no, Sunhwaryu Mu Song—cried out in panic.

“Y-you! Junior!”

“Junior? That sounds wonderful coming from you, Senior.”

“What the hell are you doing?!”

“I’m inheriting the position of the punching bag.”

“If you’re going to get hit, do it alone!”

“You should be helping me! Don’t you want to be a senior who looks after his junior?”

“And why the hell would I— Wait, Jeok Dae-Hyup!”

Unfortunately, my grand plan of dragging Mu Song down with me failed.

Jeok Cheon-Gang, his momentum interrupted, clicked his tongue and scanned Mu Song up and down.

“Whatever. What do you want?”

Mu Song, having braced himself for a beating, quickly stepped aside and answered,

“I came because you called for me. One of your subordinates said you were looking for me—”

“…Me? When?”

“T-they said you asked about when we would arrive in Henan.”

I raised my hand.

“Oh, that was probably me.”

It seemed that when I had mumbled earlier, some bandit overheard me and relayed it to Mu Song as an order from Jeok Cheon-Gang.

“…So it was you.”

“…Yeah, I was just thinking out loud.”

Judging by Jeok Cheon-Gang’s cold tone, that poor bandit was about to get a very unpleasant lesson in listening skills.

Still, since I did want an answer, I turned to Mu Song and asked,

“So, when will we arrive?”

Though Mu Song was young compared to other veteran sailors, he had spent his entire life on the Yangtze and was a seasoned navigator.

After a brief moment of calculation, he responded,

“We can cut the journey shorter than expected. If the weather stays like today, we should reach Xixia in no more than ten days.”

“Xixia?”

Despite all my wandering, I hadn’t memorized every single location in the world.

In Murim, I had been too busy to study maps, and even in modern times, trying to reconcile the geography of this world with what I found on the internet had been difficult.

Even something as simple as Dongting Lake was different.

Here in Murim, Dongting Lake was in Hubei, but in modern China, it was located in Hunan.

It was a clear reminder that, while similar, these two worlds were fundamentally different.

“So, Xixia is in Henan?”

At my question, Jeok Cheon-Gang nodded.

“It’s at the southwestern edge of Henan. If my memory serves, the Yangtze’s tributary ends around there, so we’ll have to switch to traveling by land after that. Correct?”

Mu Song bowed his head respectfully.

“Yes, Jeok Dae-Hyup, your assessment is correct.”

“I passed by Xixia during the Great Demonic War. Not bad, not bad.”

Whether he was pleased by his now flawless memory after regaining his youth or simply glad that we would be off the Yangtze within ten days, I wasn’t sure.

Maybe it was both.

With a satisfied smile, Jeok Cheon-Gang turned to Mu Song.

“Come to think of it, you’ve had a rough journey too. You’ve traveled from Sichuan to Hubei, and now you’re heading to Henan as well.”

Mu Song shook his head with a bitter expression.

“This is nothing. Thanks to this, I can finally lay my uncle and my fallen brothers to rest. Even if no one asked me to, this is something I must do.”

After the fall of Su Shinryong, Mu Song and the members of Water Dragon Stronghold gathered the remains of their fallen and scattered their ashes into the Yangtze.

To live and die by the river—this was the way of the Yangtze River Waterway League.

“They must be grateful even in the afterlife.”

“Mu Saeng, was it? For a disciple of the Sea King, your manners are quite refined. The Yangtze River Pirates raised you well.”

“They were like family to me. Also, my name is Mu Song, not Mu Saeng, Jeok Dae-Hyup.”

“Right, Mu Saeng.”

…Was his senility not fully cured after all?

For a moment, I wondered if his condition wasn’t completely healed. But seeing the way his eyes glinted dangerously, I realized—he was just being stubborn.

No matter what Mu Song said, Jeok Cheon-Gang had decided he was now Mu Saeng.

The unshakable authority of a man steeped in Confucian values bore down on Mu Song, who gulped nervously.

“…What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Good, Mu Saeng.”

Was it just me, or did I hear the sound of dentures clicking?

Unable to watch Mu Song suffer any longer, I decided to intervene—though, honestly, I had my own reasons for asking.

“By the way, Senior, do you plan to return to Sichuan?”

“Hm?”

“You know why we’re heading to Henan, don’t you?”

Understanding my intent, Mu Song’s gaze darkened.

“You’re wondering whether I’ll be joining the Murim Alliance.”

“To be honest, yes.”

“My master, my brothers—many of them were slaughtered because of Dark Heaven’s schemes. If you were in my place, what would you do?”

“I would do whatever it takes to avenge them.”

“And so would I. I’d rush there right now and offer my sword to the Murim Alliance if I could… but—”

Mu Song bit his lip before sighing.

“I’m just a minor leader under the Yangtze River Waterway League. I hold no real authority. The only one who can make that decision is my master, the Sea King.”

This was the reality of Murim.

A clan leader or sect master wielded authority far greater than even the heads of conglomerates in the modern world.

And therein lay the problem.

“A bunch of rootless river rats. Then again, it’s foolish to expect anything else from those who only care about profit, even during the Great Demonic War.”

Yes, that was exactly it.

The Yangtze River Waterway League was never a righteous faction.

River bandits from all over had gathered under the banner of the League because of the Sea King’s charisma and the promise of shared wealth.

‘It’s the same with the Green Forest Alliance.’

Both the Waterway League and the Green Forest Alliance were fundamentally groups of thieves.

The only reason they were able to maintain power and even gain legitimacy was because they had sided with the righteous sects during the Great Demonic War.

Compared to the remnants of the demonic sects that had barely survived, they were at least given some level of recognition.

But that didn’t mean weeds could grow into trees.

Jeok Cheon-Gang glared at the Yangtze’s waves with distaste, muttering,

“I hope this damned river dries up before I die. That would ruin the Sea King’s smug face.”

Then he turned to Mu Song with a sharp gaze.

“Think carefully, Mu Saeng. Your master may very well make the wrong choice.”

“…That won’t happen.”

Despite hearing his master insulted, Mu Song only let out a bitter smile.

Seeing his reaction, I started to suspect that he and the Sea King didn’t exactly have the warmest relationship.

‘But if the Waterway League and the Green Forest Alliance side with Dark Heaven at this point… what happens then?’

The answer was clear.

Things would become a massive headache.

If Dark Heaven was the sword coming from the front, these two factions would be the daggers stabbing from behind.

Even the mighty righteous sects wouldn’t come out unscathed if that happened.

“Sword Saint’s going to have a hell of a time dealing with this. The real question is, which side will they choose…?”

Just as Jeok Cheon-Gang muttered to himself, lost in thought—

“Not two, but four.”

We turned to see a composed Moon Kyung standing there, his expression unreadable.