Episode 92: A Troubled Mind

Dang Mujin slowly regained his senses while seated.

He couldn’t quite tell what was behind him, but he was certain it wasn’t just an ordinary wall.

To make matters worse, his hands were tied behind his back.

He wriggled his shoulders and wrists, trying to feel what was behind him. It was a table. His hands were bound to one of its legs.

As he fidgeted, trying to make sense of the situation, the person lying in front of him stirred and looked his way. It was Namgung Myung.

Fragments of memory before he lost consciousness began to surface. Namgung Myung, masked.

A chilling sensation, followed by a surge of murderous intent. That was as far as his memory went.

Namgung Myung spoke with a hint of indifference.

“Finally awake?”

“What happened? I think I have a rough idea.”

“You caused a ruckus, and I had to subdue you.”

“Subdue?”

“People who suffer from a mental affliction like yours tend to have their muscles seize up. Whether they faint or thrash about like you did, it’s the same. That’s why the golden elixir works so well.”

Dang Mujin belatedly realized something was off with his body. His wrists, elbows, and shoulder joints felt oddly loose. At least nothing seemed broken or sprained, which was a relief.

“Doesn’t seem like it’s your first time with the golden elixir.”

“Six times you’ve had an episode, and six times I’ve had to use it.”

“What? Six times? How long has it been?”

“This is the third day.”

Naturally, he had no memory of eating during those three days. A strong hunger gnawed at him.

Yet paradoxically, he didn’t feel a desperate urge to eat. Sometimes, when you don’t eat for a while, the hunger fades, and this seemed to be one of those times.

“You could’ve at least given me something to eat.”

“If you eat your fill and then have another episode, it just makes more work for me.”

A rather pragmatic approach. Not that he was in a position to complain.

The situation was strange, but Namgung Myung was risking himself for Dang Mujin.

“What were the results?”

Namgung Myung shook his head. It seemed there was no significant improvement.

Yet, his expression wasn’t dark. If anything, he seemed hopeful.

Namgung Myung spoke in a cheerful tone.

“No need to worry. I didn’t get better with the first method either.”

“What’s the second method?”

“I’ll explain later. For now, let’s go eat.”

“Not here?”

“I’ve tried everything this inn has to offer, and the cooking is terrible.”

As they stepped out of the room, the innkeeper greeted them with a disgruntled expression. It was clear that Dang Mujin and Namgung Myung had been a nuisance to his business.

Dang Mujin rummaged through his pockets and handed the innkeeper a few silver coins. The innkeeper’s frown turned into a bright smile.

It wasn’t a significant expense for Dang Mujin. The money Harang had given him was more than enough.

Namgung Myung led Dang Mujin through the village at a leisurely pace.

There didn’t seem to be a specific destination in mind. They retraced their steps a few times and passed by several decent-looking eateries without a second glance.

It seemed less like they were searching for a place to eat and more like they were scouring the entire village.

Dang Mujin, not feeling overwhelmingly hungry, followed Namgung Myung at a relaxed pace, taking in the surroundings. The fresh air after three days indoors felt particularly invigorating.

However, despite the pleasant weather, the village had a strangely gloomy atmosphere.

Having come from the bustling cities of Seongdo and Junggyeong, the contrast was stark.

But it wasn’t just that. The villagers’ expressions were uniformly somber, and even the children, who would typically be running around noisily, were huddled quietly in corners.

If even the children could sense something was wrong, there was definitely an issue.

Dang Mujin asked, “Why’s the mood so grim? Did someone die?”

“It’s been like this since we arrived.”

“Why is that?”

“I know someone who can explain. Follow me.”

Namgung Myung led Dang Mujin to a corner of the marketplace.

There, a small food stall stood.

A couple of pots on a tiny stove served as the kitchen, and roughly placed logs acted as chairs and tables. It was the kind of place where you could get a meal for next to nothing.

It was late, and there were no other customers.

“Are we short on cash?”

“No, I came here on purpose.”

The elderly stall owner recognized Namgung Myung and waved.

As they sat down, the owner, without a word, served them two bowls of noodles. It seemed noodles were the only dish on offer.

The broth was clear, with no oil or fancy garnishes.

But as soon as Dang Mujin caught a whiff of the simple aroma, hunger surged through him. In no time, he polished off the bowl. The plainness of the dish was refreshing.

‘I could go for another bowl.’

Dang Mujin held up his empty bowl to the stall owner, who quickly caught on and brought him another serving.

Just as the owner was about to return to the stove, Namgung Myung stopped him.

“Sir, who are those men with the swords?”

Namgung Myung gestured to two men swaggering around with swords at their waists.

Judging by their gait, they seemed to have some martial training, but likely just enough to be dangerous.

People naturally avoided them, and the men seemed to relish the attention.

The stall owner replied, “Those guys? They’re part of a gang called in by the head of the Jo family.”

“The head of the Jo family?”

“Yes, if you go down this alley, you’ll find the largest house in the village. That’s the Jo estate.”

“A few buildings, tiled roofs, high walls, and a mulberry tree in the yard?”

“That’s right. You’ve got a keen eye.”

“It’s the only place in the village that could be called an estate. Anyway, why did the head of the Jo family bring in such unsavory types?”

The stall owner didn’t hide his displeasure.

“He’s trying to follow in his father’s footsteps.”

“Could you elaborate?”

“The previous head of the Jo family was a man who learned swordplay elsewhere. He was incredibly fast with a blade and could leap onto rooftops in a single bound.”

“Impressive.”

“He gathered local thugs and formed a small sect called the Jo family. Though calling it a sect is generous; it was just a gang.”

The stall owner’s expression was one of distaste, clearly recalling unpleasant memories.

Namgung Myung, with his usual charm, prompted him to continue.

“Sounds like they were quite the troublemakers.”

“In a land without tigers, the fox is king. They were ruthless. They didn’t kill indiscriminately, but they meddled wherever there was money to be made.”

“How bad was it?”

“If someone died, they’d shamelessly seize the inheritance. If you tried to start a business, they’d extort money under the guise of rent. During the farming season, they’d loiter around the dam and charge for water, even though it was the villagers who built it.”

“I haven’t seen any of that lately. Did they turn over a new leaf?”

The stall owner scoffed at Namgung Myung’s suggestion.

“They didn’t change willingly. During the last martial arts tournament, they overstepped and got themselves killed by real martial artists. The thugs who followed the previous head scattered when they realized there’d be no more spoils.”

“Then why is the current head following in his father’s footsteps?”

“Do you think he knows how to earn an honest living? He grew up watching his father extort money, so he’s trying to do the same. Those thugs were brought in from elsewhere by the current head. He’s a scoundrel.”

The stall owner pointed to a limping man passing by.

“That guy was beaten up recently by some unknown assailant and had his precious jade ring stolen. But everyone in the village knows who did it.”

Dang Mujin watched the limping man’s vacant expression. It was a look of despair, and it was painful to witness.

He let out a deep sigh.

Such scenes were all too common in the martial world.

In larger cities, the situation is better. There, reputable sects often establish themselves, and they care about their reputation, so they rarely commit major crimes. When multiple sects compete, it’s even better.

But in small villages, it’s different.

With no competition and no concern for reputation, might makes right.

Even if the villagers protest, they fall silent in the face of swords. A village leader only needs to hire a few swordsmen to control the entire village.

These thugs and swordsmen settle in, reaping rewards far beyond their abilities, while the ordinary villagers suffer.

Namgung Myung, with a meaningful look, stood up.

“Thank you for the meal.”

“Alright. Come back anytime.”

Dang Mujin paid the noodle vendor, who seemed relieved after venting about the local landlord. His expression was noticeably lighter.

The sun had set, and the surroundings were cloaked in darkness. Dang Mujin and Namgung Myung made their way back to the inn.

Dang Mujin slowly stretched his shoulders.

“Well, now that we’ve eaten, shall we get back to it?”

Namgung Myung shook his head.

“I told you earlier, the first method didn’t seem to work.”

“So, are we moving on to the second method?”

“That’s up to you.”

“Up to me?”

Namgung Myung spoke calmly.

“Did I ever tell you about when I was suffering from my own inner demons and was forced to watch sparring matches?”

“Yeah, you did.”

“As you might have guessed, it didn’t help at all. In fact, I became more terrified of swords. Just a glimpse of a blade would make me flinch. Do you know what my father did then?”

“No, what?”

“He tied a real sword to my right hand. Not just handed it to me—he tied it so tightly I couldn’t let go.”

Dang Mujin was taken aback. Even to someone like him, who knew little about such afflictions, it sounded like an extreme approach.

”…Is that even okay?”

“Even I thought it was a bit extreme. I still vividly remember crying my eyes out. But in the end, it worked. My fear gradually subsided and eventually disappeared. My father’s decision was the right one.”

Namgung Myung continued with a steady voice.

“If the first method didn’t work, there are only two paths left: give up entirely or tackle it head-on with a bolder approach.”

Namgung Myung opened a bundle in the corner of the room.

Inside were two sets of dark clothing and two masks.

Though no one was wearing the masks yet, the mere sight of them made Dang Mujin feel a tightness in his chest.

He looked up at Namgung Myung, trying to understand his intent.

Namgung Myung’s gaze was unwavering. It was the look of a true heir, not just a young warrior.

Dang Mujin felt the pressure. Namgung Myung exuded an indescribable intensity.

”…What exactly is this second method?”

“It’s simple. You put on the mask. Just like my father tied the sword to my hand.”

It sounded absurd.

Yet, at the same time, the idea filled his mind with a strange sense of logic.

“Tonight is the new moon. The night is dark, and we have a suitable target in the local landlord. If we rob him and scatter his wealth, it could even be seen as a righteous act.”

“But…”

“Do you feel resistance? That’s your fear, your inner demon. The one thing you must overcome. The biggest obstacle in your path.”

Namgung Myung pushed the mask and clothing toward him. Dang Mujin’s heart pounded.

Namgung Myung spoke with firm resolve.

“Decide here and now. Will you overcome and move forward? Or will you run away in fear?”

With trembling hands, Dang Mujin grasped the mask.