The Elixir Already Has an Owner (4)

The person who came out of the main gate of Pungajang was an elderly man with a kind-looking face.

"What brings you here?"

I replied casually,

"What else? I came to have some fun."

The old man looked me up and down.

"You're a face I haven't seen before."

"I was introduced by Master Gwak."

"Which Master Gwak?"

I slowly ran my hand along one side of my cheek—mimicking the scar shown in the wanted sketch of Gwak Dosu.

If the old man didn't recognize this gesture, it would mean one of two things:

either that bastard wasn't here,

or he was using a disguise mask.

If that was the case, I'd just mention his name directly to confirm.

In any case, I believed that if Gwak Dosu was truly here, his name would definitely carry weight.

Sure enough, the old man smirked and relaxed his guard.

"Follow me."

He led me to the back garden behind the building. Along the way, he gave me a few warnings—phrased nicely, but the meaning was clear: cause trouble, and you'll die.

There was a fairly large building in the rear garden.

The surrounding walls were extremely high, and I could sense the presence of hidden martial artists between the trees planted here and there.

If my internal energy had fully recovered, I would've been able to determine not only their martial level but even whether they were yawning, crouching, or standing.

But for now, I could only vaguely sense their positions.

Though I pretended not to notice and followed the old man calmly, I was already thinking about possible escape routes—who I'd need to neutralize and where I'd need to break through to get out as quickly as possible.

There were two guards at the entrance. They gave off an air of considerable skill. One of them extended his hand.

"Hand over any potential weapons."

I handed him the sword I was carrying.

It wasn't a loss—I'd deliberately left my real sword behind and brought a cheap iron blade instead.

Another man thoroughly searched my body.

From the way he was checking, I could tell he was also trying to assess my martial level.

He quickly finished without showing much interest.

That reaction was exactly how others currently perceived my strength.

My body wasn't fully restored yet, and my internal energy was equivalent to only five years of cultivation.

In a way, it was actually more convenient this way.

The guard opened a door and said,

"Walk straight down this way."

I walked down a dim, narrow corridor.

I couldn't help but think—if they decided to kill someone here, it would be easy.

With mediocre martial skills and without a weapon, anyone ambushed in a place like this could only end up dead.

At the end of the corridor was a door, guarded again by two skilled-looking martial artists.

It made sense—they must be handling large amounts of money in this place, so they'd hire only the best.

When they opened the door, it revealed a large, open hall.

Unlike the gloomy corridor, the inside was bright and extravagant.

Beautiful women with graceful figures were serving drinks throughout the room, and a group of musicians played off to the side.

Crossing that door felt like stepping into an entirely different world.

There were more than twenty large tables arranged around the room.

Each table had at least three or four people, some with as many as twenty, all deeply immersed in gambling.

The atmosphere here was completely different from that of an ordinary gambling house I'd seen earlier.

The people here were dressed in much finer clothing and looked far wealthier than those in the common halls.

But they were also far more addicted to gambling—people for whom ordinary games held no thrill anymore.

That's why in this place, the starting bet was ten times higher than in regular gambling dens, and it could climb infinitely.

It was a place where a single round could send you to heaven or hell in an instant.

First, I slowly observed the room.

I noted the arrangement of the tables, where the entrances and exits were, and where the latrines were located.

Once I familiarized myself with the layout, I began searching for Gwak Dosu.

And I spotted him instantly.

Though he wore his hair long and sported a thick beard, it was definitely him.

Brazenly, he was gambling with his face fully exposed, not even bothering to hide the distinctive scar on his cheek.

'Look at this bastard… He's completely lost his sense of fear.'

But I quickly understood the reason.

Throughout the grand hall were martial artists stationed discreetly.

There were about a dozen of them, with five of them heavily concentrated around Gwak Dosu.

At first, I thought they might be watching him.

But after observing a little longer, I realized—they were guarding him.

'That bastard… did he set up this gambling den himself?'

Thinking about it again, that didn't seem to be the case.

If he had established this place, Gong Jong would've known about it.

Most likely, he had some kind of close connection with the owner here.

Maybe he offered to manage this underground den, or perhaps he killed someone on their behalf.

That would explain why he could act so confidently, as if this place were his own.

Now then, what should I do?

Taking him out didn't seem too difficult.

If I ambushed him while he was fully immersed in gambling, I could probably kill him with a single strike.

Then I'd slash my way through anyone who got in my way and escape.

Not an impossible method—but it carried too many risks.

There was always the chance that an unexpected master would show up.

And if a full-blown fight broke out, the servers and musicians could get caught in the crossfire.

I decided to leave that plan as a last resort and instead look for a way to deal with him as quietly as possible.

Just then, a seat opened up at Gwak Dosu's table.

One of the men stood up, cursing his awful luck today, and left the table.

Watching him, I thought:

The truly lucky man in a gambling den isn't the one with the best hand—It's the one who knows when to stand up and walk away.

In any case, I didn't hesitate and sat down in the seat that had just been vacated.

I didn't bother trying to hide my presence.

On the contrary, I figured being noisy and drawing attention might actually make me look less suspicious.

As soon as I sat down, I pulled out a thick stack of betting money from inside my robe and piled it high on the table.

"I've staked my life. No one's leaving this table until someone dies."

The way I said it must've made me look like an idiot here just to lose money, because Gwak Dosu, seated across from me, gave me a sly grin.

The scar on his cheek twisted as he smiled.

"And what if you're the one who dies?" he said.

The gamblers around us chuckled quietly.

I snorted in defiance, making sure not to be intimidated, and declared loudly,

"Hmph! We'll see whose luck is worse. Come on, let's deal the cards!"

The cards used at this table weren't the usual flower cards (hwahwa) common among ordinary folk—they were sword cards (geompae).

Each card was matched with a legendary sword technique or an internal energy method, and the game was played by comparing the superiority of these techniques.

These cards were mostly used by martial artists.

Besides sword cards, there were also blade cards (dopaes) based on saber techniques, spear cards (changpaes) for spear arts, and even general martial cards (mupae) that encompassed all styles.

There were also alliance cards (maengpaes), created using the different factions of the Murim Alliance.

Each had slightly different rules, resulting in a variety of unique gambling games.

At one point, Galsa-ryang had said something like this:

"After your death, the Heavenly Martial Tiger Heart Manual and the Chuhon Sura Sword Technique will probably be added to the sword cards."

I let out a quiet chuckle without realizing it—So even my martial arts would one day show up on a gambling table.

As the game went on, I gradually started losing money.

Not only Gwak Dosu, but all the men seated at the table were no slouches.

I had brought in 3,000 nyang.

In a regular gambling house, that would've been a massive sum, but judging by the pace of the bets here, I could lose it all in just two or three hours if luck turned against me.

Fortunately, while I wouldn't call myself a gambling expert, I did have some decent skill.

Among the Murim Alliance, the person best known for gambling was Baek Seong-won, the Red Dragon Unit Leader.

Once, during a drinking session, he had taught me a few techniques useful at the gambling table—pure tricks that didn't involve using martial arts.

Those tricks helped a lot.

They made it seem like I was someone with enough experience to hop from one gambling den to another.

I kept losing three rounds and then winning one in a repeating cycle.

Just like when I first sat down, I made no effort to hide my presence.

"Damn it, my cards are absolute trash today."

At my grumbling, one of the gamblers chuckled and said,

"Some days the cards fall in your favor, some days they don't. That's life, isn't it?"

I snapped back loudly,

"Sh*t! Who asked for a lecture? Save that crap for your kids, not me!"

"Hey now, let's leave family out of this."

"Geez, what a boomer!"

Everyone burst into laughter.

But even as they laughed, their eyes were like predators watching prey.

Gwak Dosu's crimes were all brutal, heinous murders.

I had expected him to be a savage brute.

But at least here at the gambling table, he acted completely differently—

Like a composed, leisurely gentleman, almost like a chivalrous swordsman.

Was it some kind of compensation mechanism?

A duality of human nature?

Or was he just a lunatic addicted to gambling?

I couldn't tell.

Another hour passed.

I had already lost half the money I brought—1,500 nyang—and with every coin I lost, their wariness toward me faded just as quickly.

Eventually, Gwak Dosu stood up, saying he was going to the latrine.

As if I had been waiting for this moment, I got up with him.

"Brother, I'll go with you. And while we're at it, let's switch up our seats when we get back."

"Brother?"

"There's no such thing as 'brothers' at a gambling table. The loser's just a sucker, and the ones winning? They're all bastards."

I turned and looked at each of the people sitting at the table one by one.

"Ugly bastard, old bastard, dumb bastard..."

The seated gamblers scowled, but I didn't miss the last one—Gwak Dosu.

"And the bastard with the scarred cheek."

Gwak Dosu's face twitched for a moment.

"Don't go foaming at the mouth just 'cause you lost a few coins."

"A few coins, my ass! You call that a few coins?"

I made to charge at him, anger flaring on my face, but one of the middle-aged martial artists standing behind suddenly sprang forward and blocked my path.

"Move. Let me through!"

The man who had stepped in glared coldly at me.

"That's enough."

"You piece of sh*t—who the hell are you? I'm a customer here!"

"I said, that's enough."

The murderous intent in his voice made me flinch and step back without thinking.

"Why don't you just stab me with that damn sword and take all my money while you're at it? Hmph! I'm done with this filthy game."

I began collecting the remaining gambling tokens on the table. I still had half of my money left, so I was certain they wouldn't just let me walk away.

Sure enough, Gwak Dosu, who had been standing behind, stepped forward.

"You brat! How dare you cause a scene in front of an esteemed guest!"

He pretended to scold the martial artist who had blocked me earlier, then approached me with a friendly smile.

"Hey, brother. Didn't you say yourself that no one leaves this table until someone dies?"

"I don't want to back down either… but can't a man have his pride?"

"Come on now, don't be like that. What does that brute of a swordsman know anyway?"

With one hand, Gwak Dosu casually slung his arm around my shoulder, and with the other, he grabbed my wrist. At the same time, he sent a small stream of internal energy into my body to gauge my strength.

Upon confirming how weak my internal energy was, a sneer of amusement appeared on his face. That figured—it was the look of someone thinking, Of course, he's nothing special.

Of course, I had learned something from him as well: at the very least, he had enough skill to probe someone's internal power with a touch.

"You said you wanted to go to the latrine, right?"

I responded to his question in a slightly softened tone.

"I'm fine. You go ahead, brother—no, I mean, hyungnim."

"No, come on. Let's go together. After we're back, we'll switch seats. Yeah, when it's not working, you gotta switch things up."

He ended up dragging me along, and I found myself being pulled rather than walking of my own will.

When the middle-aged martial artist tried to follow us, Gwak Dosu barked at him, "Where the hell do you think you're going? Stay put!"

"Come on, brother! Let's go take a nice leak and start over fresh!"

Half a quarter-hour later.

One of the martial artists who'd been waiting glanced toward the direction of the latrine.

Another, standing nearby, spoke to the middle-aged man who appeared to be their leader.

"They're taking too long."

"Let's go."

The middle-aged man took some subordinates and headed toward the latrine.

As they got closer, the strong stench of blood reached them.

"Damn it!"

The middle-aged man kicked the door open and rushed in only to be met with an unexpected scene.

A corpse with its throat slashed lay sprawled on the ground.

"That bastard acted cocky and ended up dead, huh. Where's Master Gwak?"

One of the subordinates who was examining the corpse suddenly cried out in shock.

"This is Master Gwak!"

"What?"

The middle-aged man's eyes widened in disbelief. He quickly examined the body—and sure enough, it was Gwak Dosu.

"Where is he? Find that bastard—now!"

The subordinates rushed out in all directions.

"But how the hell did he cut the neck?"

The wound wasn't torn by hand. Gwak Dosu's neck had been cleanly severed.

Just then, one of the men let out a gasp.

"Gasp!"

"What is it?"

"My dagger, sir…!"

The man looked down in shock at his waist—The dagger he had worn for self-defense was gone.

"When did he…? Ah!"

He realized it must have been when he stepped in to stop the scuffle with Gwak Dosu earlier.

In that brief struggle, the man had stolen his dagger.

Despite being surrounded by so many eyes, no one had noticed—

Which meant the opponent's sleight of hand was no ordinary skill.

The subordinates who had rushed outside now came running back in.

"The men guarding the back door were taken out. He's already escaped."

The man ground his teeth and snapped,

"Mobilize everyone! Send his description everywhere—spread it to every corner! Move!"