HDCLSSRS Ch 2

Chapter 2 I Need to Get Out of Here. (2)

And so, Seong Muyeon set out on an outing with Ilgwang. Just as he had said, the streets were teeming with people. It seemed they had gathered to watch the thrilling performances of the street entertainers at the market.

A woman held a sword in her mouth and performed a dangerous stunt.

“Waaah!”

The crowd erupted into cheers, and Seong Muyeon clapped along.

Next, a man ran across flames as if it were his living room.

Clang!

Coins flew through the air. They had been thrown by spectators moved by the performance. A boy who appeared to be the child of the man and woman scurried around, collecting the coins.

“Thank you, thank you!”

Seong Muyeon jabbed Ilgwang in the side.

“Ilgwang! If you have money, give me some.”

“Why do you need money, sir?”

“Ah, quit talking and hurry.”

Ilgwang handed him a few silver coins. Without hesitation, Seong Muyeon tossed them into the yard.

“Y-Young Master!”

“What.”

As soon as Ilgwang’s flustered expression came into view, the surroundings fell silent. The cheers and laughter vanished into a deep silence.

People began to look around for the person who had thrown the silver, and soon they spotted Seong Muyeon dressed in fine clothes.

Hundreds of eyes turned toward him. Goosebumps covered his entire body as cold sweat trickled down his back.

“…Ilgwang, did I do something wrong?”

“It was too much money to donate for a street performance.”

Ilgwang said, pressing his forehead.

Seong Muyeon was bewildered.

‘What the—! How was I supposed to know without ever using money before?!’

In wuxia stories, people would casually toss out silver even for a single bowl of noodles at an inn… Ever since awakening in this body, he had lived solely within the Demonic Cult, so he had no sense of market prices.

“Haha! The Young Master is certainly generous!”

“I’m jealous, so jealous! A silver coin for one performance? That’s a windfall!”

Suddenly, Seong Muyeon had become the frivolous young lord showing off his wealth and let out a deep sigh.

“Oh dear, thank you so much, Young Master!”

The performing couple and their child bowed deeply.

At that moment, Ilgwang leaned in and whispered in a low voice.

“You must be careful, Young Master. Some of the people watching you have rather unsettling gazes.”

Only then did Seong Muyeon glance around and notice several individuals among the crowd staring intently at him. Their eyes glistened with greed.

“It would be best to leave this place.”

Ilgwang led Seong Muyeon toward a less crowded area.

“If I had known you intended to give alms, I would have offered coins. That was my mistake. Since you were raised entirely within the cult, it’s only natural that you lack a sense of money.”

“…You’re right. I should be more careful from now on.”

They strolled through the long, stretched-out market and completed a round. By the time they were heading back to the inn, the sun had already set.

The marketplace, with vendors beginning to pack up and leave one by one, had grown quiet.

Just then, a woman’s scream echoed nearby.

“W-What are you doing!”

Not far away, they saw three people surrounded by several others. It was the same street performer family who had received the silver coin earlier.

The men surrounding them looked like obvious troublemakers.

The woman’s husband had already taken a few blows and lay collapsed on the ground. The woman and child were trembling in fear.

“You seemed to have earned quite a bit earlier. Just hand over the money and we’ll let you live.”

“Do you want to see your husband die?”

“Young Master, let’s just go.”

Ilgwang, unmoved by the sight, spoke in his usual tone.

“They ended up like that because of me.”

It was because he had given them silver in front of everyone that they had become targets for these thugs.

Ilgwang shook his head.

“It is not your fault, Young Master. In the Central Plains, such things are all too common. It is nature’s law for the strong to take from the weak.”

But Seong Muyeon could not take his eyes off them. If not for recalling his memories of his past life, he too might have thought the same.

In the Demonic Cult, the principle of might makes right is instilled from the beginning.

However, Seong Muyeon possessed the memories of the modern world and carried the average moral standards of a modern man.

As he remained still, Ilgwang furrowed his brows.

“You’ve been acting strange lately, Young Master. Why do you concern yourself with mere commoners? Let’s stop wasting unnecessary emotions and return.”

Even so, Seong Muyeon did not budge.

“Chilgongja.”

Ilgwang called out in a low, grave voice. Seong Muyeon flinched and looked back at him.

The use of the title from the cult suggested that Ilgwang’s patience was wearing thin. Though he served Seong Muyeon as one of the cult’s sons, he fundamentally looked down on him. Moreover, his duty was to protect his charge. Now that the mission was on the verge of danger, a chilling aura began to emanate from him.

“If you don’t return now…”

But Seong Muyeon’s energy remained unshaken.

“And if I don’t? What are you going to do?”

He scoffed and turned his body. Then he sprinted straight into the middle of the situation.

“If you’re not going to help, just watch! I don’t need your help anyway!”

“Young Master!”

Ilgwang’s irritated shout rang out behind him, but Seong Muyeon ignored it completely.

He stepped between the thugs and the frightened family. The thugs seemed momentarily surprised by the sudden appearance of the noble-looking man but quickly twisted their lips into sneers.

“Well, well. Isn’t this the young master from earlier? The rich, naive one.”

“You’re right. We’re lucky today. A prize has come walking right to us.”

They cackled arrogantly.

Seong Muyeon ignored them and helped the collapsed man to his feet.

“Are you alright? I’m truly sorry. This happened because of me.”

“N-No, sir. You’ve done nothing wrong. Please, don’t stay here like this—flee before something happens to you. We don’t want you to suffer because of us.”

“There’s no need to worry about that.”

Seong Muyeon smiled gently.

“What the hell! Is this punk ignoring us?!”

An angry shout rang from behind. Seong Muyeon straightened his posture and faced them squarely.

“Leave quietly and I’ll spare your lives.”

The thugs, momentarily stunned by his words, burst into laughter.

“S-Spare our lives? Us? Haha! Hey, guys, listen to this guy.”

“Got some secret weapon hidden or something? Even if you do, we’ve got the numbers—what are you going to do?”

“We’ll say the same to you. Young Master, hand over everything you’ve got and we might let you live. Heh.”

They mocked him openly.

“Hm? Now that I see you, your skin’s so pale and delicate—you’d fetch a decent price in the back alleys.”

They clearly didn’t see him as a threat.

And it made sense. Due to his innate condition, Seong Muyeon had never properly learned martial arts. He couldn’t even form a proper danjeon*, so to any observer, he appeared no different from a normal person. His pale complexion and thin limbs only made him look weaker.

(*Translator’s note: Danjeon (단전) is a point in the lower abdomen believed to be the source of internal energy in martial arts or traditional practices.)

“Let’s see… We’ll have to touch that soft skin of yours to find out if it’s really as smooth as it looks.”

One of the thugs approached him with a lewd look on his face.

Seong Muyeon stared at him with calm, sunken eyes. He didn’t flinch or blink—his face was perfectly composed.

“What, this guy’s skin is—”

Just as the thug’s hand was about to touch Seong Muyeon’s cheek—

“Graaagh!”

The man suddenly screamed in pain and stumbled backward.

“W-What’s wrong!”

He clutched his arm, but the place where his hand should have been was empty. Nearby, his severed wrist lay on the ground, blood pooling around it.

“W-What the hell did you do?! You bastard!”

The other thugs shouted, but Seong Muyeon remained still, just as he had before.

He let out a short laugh.

“You should’ve walked away when I said I’d spare your lives.”

Tap!

A shadow darted behind him. Warriors cloaked entirely in black fabric began appearing one after another, each exuding a menacing presence.

“W-What the— He was alone just now!”

Seong Muyeon watched with disinterest as the black-clad men closed in on the thugs.

They were the “Black Shadow Corps,” or Heukyeongdan. They always hid within the shadows, making their presence imperceptible until their charge was in danger.

Even if he was a discarded child, it would be a disgrace to the cult if the cult leader’s son were beaten outside. That was why they had been assigned to him.

The thugs were now rats trapped in a jar. They seemed to have some martial arts training themselves, but their level was too low—they hadn’t even realized that the Black Shadow Corps had surrounded them.

They were small-time crooks using second-rate martial arts to commit crimes in back alleys. There was no way they could match the Black Shadow Corps.

“P-Please spare—Gaaaagh!”

“Aaaargh!”

Without even putting up proper resistance, they were slaughtered by the Black Shadow Corps. It was a massacre.

Seong Muyeon turned to the trembling family.

“Are you alright?”

But strangely, the three of them had turned deathly pale and couldn’t speak. They just clung to each other, shaking.

“What’s wrong?”

“P-Please… Spare us!”

“Huh?”

Only then did Seong Muyeon realize his own appearance.

Because the thugs had been slaughtered right in front of him, his entire body was drenched in blood.

“Oh.”

He tried wiping his face with his sleeve, but the blood only smeared, making him look even more grotesque.

“Still, don’t worry. You’re safe now— Where are you going? Hey!”

Seong Muyeon called out after the family as they fled in a panic, then let out a long sigh.