Became a God-Level Martial Artist

Ch. 38


Chapter 38: So What

The child who stepped onto the platform was Gaesam.

The same boy who came every morning to eat at Seong-un Inn.

Jin Seong-un reached for the Black High Sword. At that moment, Seomun Ak grabbed his wrist.

“Not yet.”

Jin Seong-un grew angry. Having lived his whole life as an inn waiter, it was his first time witnessing such a scene.

But Seomun Ak was different. Though he had never taken part in such an auction before, he knew—having often mingled with the Unorthodox Path—that there were far filthier and viler men than these.

It was also the difference between a martial artist and someone who wasn’t.

Seomun Ak calmly watched the situation unfold.

As the host prattled on, bids began to ring out from various corners.

Even though they were all masked, their expressions felt revolting and vile.

“Ten taels of silver. Any higher?”

The host glanced around as he spoke.

His expression seemed unsatisfied, clearly hoping for a higher price.

Then Seomun Ak raised his hand.

“Twenty taels.”

All eyes immediately turned toward him.

Seomun Ak met their gazes without flinching. The plain white mask he wore exuded an odd atmosphere.

Those who met his eyes gave awkward coughs and quickly looked away.

“Twenty taels! Truly a generous Master! Any higher?”

The host’s voice rose. Twenty taels was a little more than he had expected.

The crowd murmured. They were displeased that the bid had jumped from ten straight to twenty.

The host then broke into a broad smile.

“Twenty taels! Sold!”

At his signal, Black Sword stepped onto the platform and brought the boy down.

Black Sword grinned slyly and added.

“Well, well. Spending twenty taels on a porter? A rich young master surely is different.”

He babbled on as if greasing his lips, clearly intending to flatter in hopes of squeezing out a few extra coins.

“Now then, just hand me the twenty taels. Of course, if you’re feeling generous, you can give more. Hahaha.”

Black Sword chuckled as he held out his palm.

Seomun Ak stared at the hand for a moment before replying.

“I’ll pay all at once.”

“All at once? Do you need more porters?”

Seomun Ak nodded, unwilling to waste more words. He had lived like trash all his life, but these men were beyond despicable.

Feeling slighted, Black Sword frowned. At the same time, Jin Seong-un fixed his gaze on him.

“Is there a problem?”

“...No. Of course not.”

Black Sword’s stomach dropped. Even back at the tavern, he had felt it—something in this guard’s eyes chilled the soul.

Especially now, with only his eyes visible behind the golden mask, that chill was even sharper.

Having already witnessed Seomun Ak’s wealth, Black Sword decided not to press the matter further and stepped back.

Jin Seong-un looked at Gaesam, who had been dragged down by Black Sword. Normally brash and full of life, the boy now trembled in fear.

It was only natural. After all, he was just a child.

Jin Seong-un placed his palm gently on the boy’s back. Gaesam flinched and looked up at him.

Jin Seong-un channeled his qi through the Women’s Moon Heart Method, breathing life into the boy. The energy was as warm and compassionate as the Noble Enchantress’s smile.

Gradually, Gaesam’s trembling subsided.

Jin Seong-un and Seomun Ak’s eyes shifted back to the platform. Another child was brought up.

This one wasn’t from Gaesam’s group but a stranger.

Jin Seong-un let out a quiet sigh. Just how many children had been caught by these men?

He too had once wandered the streets as a homeless child. Perhaps that was why—a rare killing intent rose within him.

He thought to himself that it was a good thing he had come with Seomun Ak. Had he been alone, he would have already drawn his blade when Gaesam first stepped onto the stage.

The auction continued.

Some faces were familiar, others not.

But every child was bought by Seomun Ak, who offered large sums without hesitation.

By the time four of Gaesam’s companions and two unknown children stood by their side—

Someone finally snapped.

“You do have the money, right?”

“Why are you speaking down to me?”

Seomun Ak retorted in kind.

The man in the red mask frowned beneath it. He didn’t seem to be a martial artist.

His stomach bulged even more than No Sang-won of the Cloth Shop, swollen with fat.

“Do you even know who I am?”

The red-masked man spoke belligerently.

Seomun Ak snorted.

“And do you know who I am?”

That unique air of arrogance returned to him.

Normally, this would be the point where someone hesitated, wondering if their opponent was someone important.

But the red-masked man openly displayed his displeasure.

“Hey. Did you even get paid by him yet?”

The host turned to look at Black Sword.

Scratching his head awkwardly, Black Sword stayed silent.

He believed Seomun Ak’s promise to pay in one sum. Besides, this was their stronghold—there was no way the man could leave without paying.

But because Black Sword hesitated, the host’s expression darkened.

The red-masked man sneered.

“What’s this? You mean you’ve let him do all this without even taking money? What if he’s just here to rig the bidding? Then why should we ever trust this auction again?”

He had a point.

The host signaled to Black Sword, who reluctantly approached Seomun Ak.

“Master, let’s settle accounts now. It’s not that I doubt you, but we do have rules here.”

“Rules?”

Seomun Ak’s tone turned sharp, making Black Sword sigh. Spoiled young masters were always a pain.

Did he even know where he was?

Black Sword lowered his voice slightly.

“Look, it’s not unreasonable. I just need the money for the goods you’ve already won.”

As his tone hardened, martial artists in the back of the auction hall began stepping forward.

At that moment—

Seomun Ak nodded. And in that instant, Jin Seong-un drew the Black High Sword.

The moment the blade came free, Black Sword’s head flew into the air.

Blood sprayed in every direction, and silence fell over the hall as if doused in ice water.

“W-what is this?!”

The host shouted in shock.

From behind the platform, unorthodox martial artists surged forward, radiating killing intent.

Jin Seong-un looked down at the headless Black Sword and muttered to himself.

“Calling people things...”

His sword leveled at the unorthodox martial artists. That alone made them falter, their steps halted under an oppressive weight pressing down on their shoulders.

Jin Seong-un spread out his qi sense. All the unorthodox martial artists hidden inside had already come out.

That meant no one remained behind the platform to use the children as hostages.

Swaek—!

Jin Seong-un’s figure stretched long in a blur. Naturally, their eyes could not follow such movement.

Startled, the unorthodox men turned at the sudden sound to the side.

Chwaak—!

In an instant, five martial artists collapsed in a pool of blood.

At the center stood Jin Seong-un in his golden mask.

“C-crazy!”

Though their realms were low, they were still men who had learned martial arts. Realizing they faced a master they could not contend with, some tried to flee.

One man sprinted toward the door.

Jin Seong-un did not chase, only watched.

The moment the man’s hand touched the door handle—

Puh-ong—!

His head burst apart.

It was Seomun Ak’s fist that killed him instantly.

Seomun Ak fiddled with his white mask and spoke.

“Who said anyone could leave?”

With his massive frame blocking the door, none dared to move.

They had seen a man’s head explode like a ripe gourd moments before.

And they certainly had no thought of rushing at the golden-masked figure. To them, the swordsman Jin Seong-un was even more terrifying than the pugilist Seomun Ak.

They were all frozen, unable to act.

Then it happened.

The red-masked man rose from his seat.

Jin Seong-un and Seomun Ak turned their eyes to him.

Suddenly, the man pulled off his mask, revealing his face.

His expression was proud, as if saying, “This is who I am.”

But neither Jin Seong-un nor Seomun Ak recognized him. After a moment of silence, the man introduced himself.

“I am Magistrate Gam Ji-won.”

“Magistrate?”

Seomun Ak frowned.

A magistrate was a government official of rank seven, ruling a district. His authority was not insignificant, and given the non-interference pact between the martial world and the officials, Gam Ji-won spoke with bold confidence.

“And is it proper for a magistrate to be in a place like this?”

“Can you not tell? I was infiltrating to wipe out the Black Market. Whoever you are, your reckless actions have ruined everything. The constables will soon arrive, so step aside. Naturally, you will also be held accountable.”

Gam Ji-won said this as he confidently moved toward the door. At least in Dangyang County, he believed none could stop him.

He tried to pass Seomun Ak. But Seomun Ak shoved his broad hand into the man’s chest, sending him sprawling backward.

The flabby Gam Ji-won rolled over, cushioned by his bulk. He did not look too hurt.

“H-how dare you!”

Magistrate Gam Ji-won shouted. Even after revealing his identity, someone dared to lay hands on him?

Meanwhile, Jin Seong-un glanced at Seomun Ak with a look that asked—he is still an official, is this wise?

Seomun Ak sneered from behind his mask.

That sneer only made Magistrate Gam Ji-won more enraged.

“Reveal your identity at once! By the authority of the magistrate, I shall arrest you!”

“You came here alone to wipe out the Black Market?”

“S-so what if I did?!”

“Ridiculous. Officials never investigate this way. They value their lives too much to come alone into a den of unorthodox scum. Is there anyone here who came as his escort?”

Seomun Ak shouted at the crowd.

But no one answered.

Perhaps thinking his identity was being doubted, Magistrate Gam Ji-won pulled out a gold badge from his robes—the emblem of a magistrate.

“Do you still dare to speak such nonsense after seeing this?”

His voice grew stronger. With the badge displayed, murmurs rippled through the crowd.

Gam Ji-won expected them to bow their heads. Even if they did not, surely they would not dare harm a government official.

Seomun Ak stared at him.

It was true—the office of magistrate carried real authority, a title that commanded respect.

But the problem was who stood before him.

After a brief thought, Seomun Ak removed his mask.

He looked Gam Ji-won straight in the eye and said.

“I am Seomun Ak, second son of the Seomun Clan. Whether you are a real magistrate or not, it is none of my concern.”

At the name of Seomun Clan, Gam Ji-won’s eyes nearly popped out.

The non-interference pact between officials and the martial world did exist—but only among equals.

A prestigious clan like the Seomun Clan would certainly have ties far above a mere county magistrate.

And if the opponent was not just any warrior but the clan’s second son, the situation turned dire.

Gam Ji-won’s eyes rolled in panic. No matter how he tried, no solution came to mind, and he froze in place.

At that moment, Jin Seong-un sent a sound transmission to Seomun Ak.

-Didn’t the Clan Leader forbid you from using the family name? He’ll be furious if he finds out.

Indeed, Seomun Jeok, head of the clan, had once raged at his son’s disgrace and forbidden him to use the name.

Seomun Ak’s lips twitched irritably at Jin Seong-un’s words. His father’s furious face came vividly to mind.

‘So what.’

A wastrel’s nature did not vanish overnight. Tell him not to do something, and he would do it all the more.

So, loud enough for all to hear, he declared once again.

“I am Seomun Ak, second son of Clan Leader Seomun Jeok of the Seomun Clan!”

With that, Seomun Ak charged at the unorthodox martial artists.

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