Chapter 1
Prologue.
It was over.
The man wiped away the droplets of blood splattered on his face and looked around.
Nothing moved.
Nothing was alive.
A mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.
Right in the middle of it, only the man stood tall.
He slowly lowered his sword.
Squelch. Squelch.
Every time the man took a step, dark red liquid soaked the soles of his shoes.
A single word left behind by someone right before they breathed their last rang in his ears.
‘You monster……!’
The man stopped in his tracks.
He chuckled bitterly.
It wasn’t wrong.
The Heavenly Demon Cult’s number one killer, Mangryang.
For that was the name the world called him by.
He slowly bowed his head.
The man’s face was reflected in the puddle collected beneath his feet.
An unusually blood-red glow of eyes met his gaze.
Looking into those red eyes, a terrible fatigue washed over him.
He was sick and tired of the stench of blood, and sick of the sensation of cutting down human beings.
Mangryang looked down at the sword held in his hand.
Murky blood dripped down from the worn blade, its edge entirely nicked and tattered.
Drip. Drop.
Drip.
The sound of blood soaking the ground resembled the sound of rain.
No, it was the sound of rain.
Mangryang opened his eyes.
The pungent stench of blood had disappeared, replaced by the scent of old wood and water unique to an inn.
It was raining outside.
Groaning, he sat up and drank the bedside water.
The sensation of the lukewarm liquid flowing down his throat brought him back to reality.
He slowly looked around.
A floor polished to a shine without a single speck of dust. Simple furnishings.
In this space he had spent the last decade sweeping and wiping every single day, there were no such things as bloodstains.
Only then did he feel relieved, rubbing his rough face.
On a day with weather like this, hot soup would sell well.
It seemed best to prepare more noodle broth than usual.
Estimating the necessary ingredients, he headed toward the storeroom.
His face was reflected in the puddle that had gathered in the yard.
It was not red.
His eyes reflected in the water were ordinary brown.
1. A Certain Innkeeper
Among the inns of the Murim, rare was the place where the tables remained intact.
Because the food was salty.
Because someone made eye contact.
Because I was in a bad mood while the other person was smiling.
Most of the customers were prone to drawing blades for such petty reasons.
But Sowol Inn was different.
Far from smashing tables, even guests who raised their voices were rare.
There was only one reason.
It was because of the innkeeper’s unusual appearance.
“One bowl of noodles here!”
“T-Thank you……. Hiccup!”
A body as massive as a mountain.
A distinct blade scar around his left eye.
The back of his hands covered with sword cuts and scars.
Facing an innkeeper who clearly looked like he had lived by the blade, customers simply ate their meals in quiet.
But even such an innkeeper had something he couldn’t handle.
“Wah, waaaah……!”
“I got it, I got it. Come here.”
Holding the whining baby in his arms, Sowol let out a sigh.
A mere month.
In that short time, it felt like he had broken out into more cold sweat than he had in his entire fifty years of life.
The problem was that the culprit who caused this situation was nowhere to be seen.
“Beopgong, when on earth is this guy coming……”
Sowol muttered discontentedly.
Just then, a carrier pigeon flew through the window.
It was the letter Sowol had been waiting for so eagerly.
Quickly opening the letter, a familiar handwriting caught his eye.
As Sowol read down the letter, his face distorted.
[Sorry, but I’ll pick up the baby next summer.]
……This crazy monk.
The letter crumpled in Sowol’s hand trembled violently.
He wanted to hurl curses toward Mount Song, but even that wasn’t feasible.
He couldn’t shout loudly while holding a squirming newborn baby in his arms.
Drooping his shoulders, Sowol thought about how things had turned out this way.
That is to say, Beopgong coming to find Sowol happened a month ago.
♡♡♡
“Khaa, the alcohol tastes great!”
Sowol glared at Beopgong, who had barged in unannounced and taken a seat.
Showing up suddenly just as he was closing up shop, he had already emptied two jugs of alcohol.
“Drink in moderation. How can a monk be so fond of alcohol?”
“Since I can’t drink on Mount Song, I have to drink with joy whenever I get the chance. Believe it or not, I’m an elder who has to set an example for the disciples.”
“Set an example? Shave your hair first before talking.”
Snorting, Sowol sat across from Beopgong, and Beopgong filled Sowol’s cup.
“Is business going well?”
“Just so-so. I make enough to scrape by.”
The two chuckled softly and clinked their glasses.
Meeting in their early twenties, they were now fifty.
Unlike Sowol, who had grown wrinkles and graying hair here and there, Beopgong had not changed since the first time they met.
Neither his personality nor his appearance.
“Hey. I have one favor to ask.”
“What favor?”
“Take care of a kid for me.”
Nor his sanity.
At such absurd nonsense, Sowol furrowed his brows and asked back.
“Take care of what?”
“A child. A newborn baby.”
“……You damn monk. Have you finally lost your mind?”
Sowol grew solemn and set down his cup, but Beopgong paid it no mind and brought up his main point.
“A remnant of the Demonic Cult died while giving birth to a baby in the Alliance’s prison. But the old man told me to take the child in.”
“Your master?”
“So I need a place to leave the baby.”
“Why not take her to Shaolin?”
“If it were a boy, I would have. But it’s a girl.”
Sowol’s expression grew serious.
Beopgong’s master was a high monk who was the former Abbot of Shaolin and held the position of the Leader of the Murim Alliance.
Given that someone so miraculous as to rumoredly read heavenly secrets showed interest, it wouldn’t be an ordinary baby.
However, that was merely Beopgong’s situation, and it was no reason for Sowol to take on the baby.
Sowol waved his hand dismissively.
“I get your situation, but look somewhere else. Don’t you have plenty of people around you? Why come to me?”
“It’s a child our old man has his eye on. The moment I entrust her to them, they’ll try to exploit her. Especially those noble clan bastards, I can’t trust them.”
“And a Demonic Cult member is fine?”
“You’re better than those bastards.”
“Nonsense. Where is the lunatic who leaves a newborn baby with a fifty-year-old bachelor? I can’t take her.”
Snorting in disbelief, Sowol suddenly felt something was off.
“Hold on. Don’t tell me that bundle you brought earlier is……!”
Leaping up from his seat, Sowol rushed toward the bundle Beopgong had brought.
It was just as Sowol had expected.
A baby.
A newborn baby who looked barely a month old was inside the bundle.
“You crazy bastard! What are you doing treating a newborn baby like luggage!”
“See? I told you you’re the right person. You’re the only guy who’d think of the baby first.”
Sowol resisted the urge to smack the back of Beopgong’s head as he took the baby out of the bundle.
Fortunately, the baby was sound asleep.
“You lunatic, take her back right now!”
“Are you going to kick out a newborn baby in this midwinter cold? Just take care of her for one month.”
“Do you even plan to come pick her up after a month?”
As a grimacing Sowol glared at Beopgong, Beopgong, reading the room, subtly changed the subject.
“Ah, right, about her birth mother. They said she was Number 83. She seemed to know you.”
At the familiar name, Sowol paused.
“……Number 83? That girl…… died?”
“Yeah. I recovered the body.”
“…….”
Mouthing silently, Sowol held his throbbing forehead.
He quietly looked down at the baby’s face.
Hearing that, he thought he could see a familiar face.
“The biological father?”
“Don’t know. She didn’t say until the end.”
As Sowol showed signs of shaking, Beopgong slyly placed a gold ingot on the table.
“I heard raising a kid costs quite a bit. I’ll leave the money here.”
Sowol furrowed his brows.
It was far too much money to pull out on an impulse.
He had brought it in advance.
This guy came from the very start intending to dump her without considering Sowol’s opinion in the slightest.
“Waaaaah!”
“The baby woke up. Whew, what a stink. Looks like she pooped. Wash her well.”
Holding his nose, Beopgong quietly stood up and ran out of the inn before Sowol could grab him.
“Poop? Sniff, sniff, how am I supposed to wash her……. Beopgong! Hey, you crazy monk bastard!”
Sowol ran out and shouted, but Beopgong had already disappeared over the hill.
“Wah, waaaah!”
Left alone with a newborn baby who had pooped, Sowol felt like catching Beopgong and slamming him into the ground.
“Son of a bitch. If he shows up again, I’m going to smash his dantian to pieces.”
Spitting out his annoyance, Sowol took a deep breath.
Beating Beopgong up was a matter for later.
First, washing the baby came first.
……But how do you wash a baby?
A look of helplessness appeared on Sowol’s face.
