Chapter 3 : How Much

Chapter 3: How Much?

The Martial Gods and Jin Seong-un reached a compromise.

“Huh, so that’s the life you’ve lived.”

At first, the Merchant King had opposed him, but after hearing Jin Seong-un’s story, he found it admirable.

The Merchant King himself had once been a waiter before establishing his own family, so he understood Jin Seong-un’s situation all the more.

The Sword Immortal taught Jin Seong-un swordsmanship.

The Merchant King, while teaching him the sabre arts, told him to run the inn and come to him anytime if a problem arose. To Jin Seong-un, it was the most reassuring thing he could hear.

Noble Enchantress taught him inner arts.

Divine Thief taught him movement arts, including stealth techniques.

Lastly, the Blood Demon, in a rather reluctant manner, taught him palm techniques, fist techniques, and other unarmed combat arts.

About half a month passed.

Or perhaps an entire month had flown by.

In this place, Jin Seong-un realized that the concept of time was tied to space.

Since there was neither sun nor moon here, it was hard to judge the passing of time.

Even without eating, he strangely didn’t feel hungry, and even without sleeping, he didn’t feel tired.

He simply focused on training.

The Martial Gods enjoyed teaching Jin Seong-un, as he absorbed everything they passed on to him, and Jin Seong-un, in turn, found joy in a new world that seemed to open endlessly before him.

After who knows how much time had passed, the Martial Gods, led by the Sword Immortal, stood Jin Seong-un up and spoke with pleased expressions.

“For now, we have nothing more to teach you. They say too much is as bad as too little. No matter how large your vessel is, it’s best not to keep filling it, but instead to spend some time organizing what you’ve learned.”

The other Martial Gods nodded at the Sword Immortal’s words.

From a normal perspective, Jin Seong-un had already learned far too much.

But Jin Seong-un possessed the Heavenly Martial Body, and these were Martial Gods whose names would be counted among the greatest in history.

Naturally, their standards were different from those of ordinary people.

“How strong have I become?”

In truth, Jin Seong-un couldn’t feel it at all.

The only opponents he had crossed hands with were the Martial Gods themselves.

The more he learned martial arts, the more clearly he felt the greatness of the Martial Gods.

The Sword Immortal smiled gently.

Contrary to his initial worries, Jin Seong-un was as steadfast and simple-hearted as his natural martial talent was great.

There was less concern now that another being like the Blood Demon might appear in the world.

“Measuring how strong you are is meaningless. If you think you must be stronger, then you will become so.”

It was a strange thing to say.

True to his nature as a Taoist, the Sword Immortal sometimes spoke like that.

“Sword Immortal, speak so we can understand.”

The Merchant King scolded him.

Unlike the Sword Immortal, who walked the Way of Martial Arts, the Merchant King was used to dealing with money and numbers.

Divine Thief, the thief, secretly nodded in agreement with the Merchant King’s words.

The Merchant King said,

“You’ll know exactly how strong you are when you go out into the world. Of course, there will still be many stronger than you. But you needn’t be afraid. As long as you remain at the inn, you can always run back to us.”

In other words, unless it was an overwhelming master capable of killing Jin Seong-un in a single strike…

Even if he couldn’t win, he wouldn’t lose either.

It was extremely rare for a waiter to leave the inn, which meant the Martial Gods would always have Jin Seong-un’s back.

Jin Seong-un nodded.

At first, he had thought of them as senile ghosts… but they were indeed Martial Gods.

They did not call Jin Seong-un their disciple, nor did he call them master.

They were bound by a sort of transaction.

Even so, Jin Seong-un inwardly regarded them as his masters.

It felt as though he had gained five masters—four fathers and one mother.

“Then, I’ll see you again in a month.”

That was the agreed period.

He planned to run the inn for a month, while continuing to polish and practice what the Martial Gods had taught him.

The Martial Gods nodded with satisfaction.

Then, the moment Jin Seong-un opened the Storage Shed door and stepped outside again…

Just like when he had entered, it was night.

The wind stirred the grass in the empty yard.

Jin Seong-un realized instinctively—

That unlike the time that had passed inside, not even a single breath of time had passed outside.

—Time means little to us, so what is there to worry about?

The Sword Immortal’s words suddenly made perfect sense.

The Martial Gods were beings who transcended time, perhaps living trapped within an eternity.

“You all said you had regrets.”

Jin Seong-un, who had lived barely twenty years, couldn’t fully understand their hearts.

But he could imagine that living, or having to live, for eternity while carrying regrets could not be pleasant.

That must have been why the Martial Gods didn’t easily give up on persuading him once they found him.

“…For now, I should start by tidying the grass.”

Feeling a slight deepening of his sense of responsibility, Jin Seong-un headed for the inn.

Just as Jin Seong-un was about to grab the doorknob and pull, he stopped for a moment.

He could now sense many things he hadn’t noticed before going to the Storage Shed.

The texture of the wind, the energy contained in the faint moonlight, the principles hidden in the swaying of grass…

And the uninvited guests inside the Seong-un Inn.

Jin Seong-un quietly circulated the Women’s Moon Heart Method.

A clear, refined energy moved within his body, yet not a trace of it leaked outside.

That was the trait of the Women’s Moon Heart Method—unless the person was a truly exceptional master, they wouldn’t even notice Jin Seong-un had learned martial arts.

Click.

When Jin Seong-un opened the door and stepped inside, two uninvited guests were, as expected, sitting on top of a dining table.

Not on chairs—on the table itself.

As a waiter, this was something he found hard to tolerate.

“This is Seong-un Inn.”

“So I’ve heard.”

The man who spoke jerked his chin toward one side.

The signboard of Seong-un Inn, which Jin Seong-un had personally carved earlier, was split in half.

The man smirked and continued.

“Don’t you think ‘Seong-un Inn’ is too grand a name? Just call it this.”

The man pulled a piece of paper from his robe and handed it over.

Jin Seong-un walked over calmly and took it.

It read: Nameless Inn.

An inn with no name.

The man went on.

“No need to make that stiff face. All the shops in this area go through the same process. Once you get our approval, you can name it however you like. So, are you a waiter?”

“I’m both the waiter and the owner.”

“You’re a funny one.”

Jin Seong-un stared at the men.

The loosely worn black long robes.

The glint of a straight sword faintly visible inside.

The slightly tilted head, as if on purpose.

All of it was so clearly deliberate that it was almost laughable.

More than anything, Jin Seong-un immediately understood the Merchant King’s words.

—You’ll know exactly how strong you are when you go out into the world.

The men’s martial aura was plain as day to him.

The Martial Gods had said that terms like “first-rate” or “top-tier” meant nothing.

Even so, by the common worldly standard, their martial skill was about second-rate.

In his mind, Jin Seong-un imagined fighting them.

In the briefest of moments, he had already fought over a hundred matches in his head.

Result—victory in every single one.

Even the “longest” fight ended before seven exchanges were made.

Jin Seong-un glanced at the paper with “Nameless Inn” written on it, then simply crushed it in his fist.

The men’s expressions crumpled like the paper.

Needing their approval to choose a name?

Jin Seong-un spoke to them.

“And who might you be?”

Normally, Jin Seong-un’s emotions didn’t fluctuate much.

Yet whenever he met a martial artist, he always greeted them with a smile.

That was the duty of a waiter.

Or more precisely—the way to survive as an ordinary waiter.

But now, there was no reason to force a smile.

Jin Seong-un was no longer an ordinary waiter.

Only one emotion was on his face now—

The annoyance of having to carve a new signboard.

Nothing more. There wasn’t a shred of fear toward the men.

“Hey, waiter.”

One of the men suddenly drew the straight sword from his waist and stabbed it deep into the tabletop.

Crack!

He thought it was a movement as swift as lightning.

At the very least, he believed that a mere waiter would be frightened enough to wet himself.

With that expectation, he looked at the man before him—

Whether he was a waiter or the owner, his expression didn’t change in the slightest.

The man’s eyebrow twitched.

‘What’s this?’

It had been a while since he tried to act imposing.

In truth, within their organization, he was only a foot soldier. But when it came to waiters, he could easily pretend to be one of the top ten experts under heaven.

Yet it didn’t work at all.

A sudden sense of foreboding crept in. At the very least, he realized this was no ordinary waiter.

“…Are you from the Hao Sect?”

A sect formed from the likes of waiters, courtesans, entertainers, butchers—people from the lower rungs of life.

They, too, were a proper sect, and a collective of martial artists that even these men could not simply dismiss.

Jin Seong-un looked at the man for a moment before speaking.

“I told you, I’m a waiter.”

A vague answer.

The men had to decide whether Jin Seong-un was a member of the Hao Sect or just a pretentious waiter.

Meanwhile, Jin Seong-un walked toward them, step by step.

When the distance between them had closed considerably—

“We’re from the Prosperity Association. Yichang Prosperity Association.”

Jin Seong-un’s steps came to a sudden halt.

A Prosperity Association was, by definition, a gathering of local merchants.

Which meant, perhaps, they weren’t enemies to Jin Seong-un, but potential allies.

“Ah, so that’s what it was. You mean I need the Prosperity Association’s approval to name my shop? Strange rule.”

The place where Jin Seong-un used to work also had a similar organization—collecting regular dues, occasionally holding feasts, and helping each other in times of trouble.

When Jin Seong-un’s tone softened slightly, for some reason the men felt relieved.

That was the nature of second-rate martial artists of the underworld.

They were ruthless tyrants toward those who knew no martial arts at all, but they feared anyone who knew even a little, as such people were often their equals or stronger.

They couldn’t read Jin Seong-un’s martial aura, but his confident and calm demeanor had unsettled them.

“Yes. We came because we heard a new inn had opened, to explain the rules of the Prosperity Association.”

“Then explain the rules first—without needlessly breaking another’s signboard.”

The two men looked at each other.

It seemed each was hoping the other would speak first.

After a brief staring contest—

The slightly younger of the two finally opened his mouth.

“For inns, to ensure the prosperity of local merchants, you must buy liquor from a designated supplier.”

“That’s fairly common.”

Usually, the places that brewed and sold liquor operated on a large scale.

A mere merchant had no leverage in negotiations with them.

So merchant guilds or prosperity associations pooled their strength to deal with them.

Jin Seong-un nodded.

“And if I don’t comply, the Prosperity Association will impose penalties, right? I understand—strength comes from unity, and it’s a world where we must live together. So, how much for a bottle of white liquor?”

“The minimum supply is one cartload—one hundred bottles.”

“…That’s quite a lot.”

“It’s to reduce labor costs, you could say. Anyway, one cartload with a hundred bottles is one nyang of silver.”

Which meant ten iron coins per bottle.

And that was exactly the price inns usually charged customers for a bottle of white liquor.

They were taking the full amount?

On top of that, they enforced buying a hundred bottles at a time, and colluded to prevent purchases from other sources…

They must have bled many powerless merchants dry this way. No doubt with the local authorities in their pocket. Prosperity Association? More like prospering only themselves.

Jin Seong-un nodded.

Taking it as agreement, the two men relaxed slightly.

“Wait here a moment.”

Jin Seong-un walked toward the inn’s entrance.

The sudden move made the men stare at him intently.

He soon closed the inn’s door.

Click.

The latch locked firmly.

In the dim interior of the inn, Jin Seong-un turned his head and, changing his tone again, asked—

“How much did you say?”