Chapter 2. The Flounder
The Beggars' Sect’s training ground was vast.
Just because the Beggars' Sect was a clan of beggars didn't mean it lacked basic facilities like a training ground.
‘If anything, their conditions are better than the Nine Great Sects holed up in the remote mountains.’
To sell the information the beggars gathered and make a living, they had to be near large cities.
They made the capital, Beijing, their headquarters and dispatched their main forces to various regions under the guise of branches.
That was the way of the Beggars' Sect.
The Nine Great Sects, including the Beggars' Sect, rarely intervened in the affairs of the martial world, as they were busy holding back the monstrous spirits in the mountains.
The Eight Great Families rarely ventured out of their own territories, and factions like the Serpent's Dao Alliance and the Sun Moon Divine Cult were also quiet for the time being.
‘It was a peaceful era. That’s why internal scumbags like Elder Hwa were able to run rampant.’
I lifted my head and looked at the Beggars' Sect’s training ground. The rough dirt ground constantly kicked up dust, and the beggars with low martial skill were always coughing and sputtering.
That wasn't all. Broken wooden training dummies were scattered across the hard ground, and beggars lay panting, staring up at the sky.
Were those Two-Knot Beggars?
The Two-Knot Beggars, with two tattered knots hanging from their waists, were those who balanced begging with training.
They were the so-called "bosses" in charge of the slightly larger beggar dens.
‘Common, yet utterly essential.’
No matter how peaceful the times were, a beggar had to do something to survive, so they were bound to be busy.
These people, living busily even in times of peace, were the core of the Beggars' Sect. They were talents far superior to husks like me or Elder Hwa.
‘I didn’t realize that in the past.’
I clicked my tongue at the reality that only became visible after experiencing a world that had already fallen to ruin, and I carefully moved past them.
“ Hey, I heard, *huff* you're quitting gambling? Why is one of the top three gamblers in the Central Plains suddenly quitting?"
“Catch your breath before you speak. Your internal energy circulation is unstable. Are you trying to get a Qi deviation during training?”
“Alright. *Hoo*. You’re as talkative as ever.”
There were even some who greeted me while lying there like corpses.
Was the name of the one lying down just now Jeong-pal?
Probably. I had nothing to say about his end. I didn't know it either.
Well, he probably died fighting valiantly. Along with countless other beggars I didn't know.
Gambling, though. It had been a while since I'd heard that word. It had been a long time since I quit. There was no gambler quite like me.
‘Who has the energy to gamble in the middle of a war? Just getting a drink and a piece of meat was a feast for a king.’
*Thud.*
As I quietly headed toward the center of the training ground, I heard the clash of swords from the sparring stage. A beggar in rags and another in a neat white robe were fighting with gritted teeth.
I brought a hand to my forehead as I watched the two fight as if to kill, even though it was just a spar. A frustrating heat, like a burning rage, rose in my chest.
‘So these crazy bastards were fighting over ideology even back then.’
**
In the past, the Beggars' Sect was divided into the O-ui-pa (汚衣派), the Dirty Clothes Faction, who wore dirty clothes, arguing that one should not forget the essence of being a beggar.
And the Cheong-ui-pa (淸衣派), the Clean Clothes Faction, who wore clean clothes for the sake of practicality.
In times of chaos, people die. In times of peace, they force their ideologies on others. That unwritten rule applied to beggars as well.
Four knots on their waists.
Four-Knot Beggars. That meant they were pretty high up in the Beggars' Sect. What the hell were they doing?
A distant glint of light bloomed from the tips of their swords, and their bodies were stained with blood. But what was even more infuriating was what was happening below the stage.
“Haha, why don’t you just cut his head clean off! Damn Dirty Clothes Faction bastards.”
“Serves them right! How dare those filthy dogs challenge our Clean Clothes Faction? Am I right?”
The majority were clapping and cackling like a bunch of bandits. Where were the members of the Beggars' Sect who revered justice? Had this place become a den of thieves?
“Senior Brother, calm down. This is nothing new, is it?”
“What are you talking about? I’m fine.”
“You’ve got murder in your eyes.”
I casually ignored the ramblings of a mere mortal and immediately drew the iron sword from my waist.
*Kaaaaang—*
As I flicked the blade, a chilling metallic sound spread out. I had filled it with internal energy, so the beggars who had been cackling below the stage clutched their ears in agony as blood trickled out.
The gazes of these degenerates, unworthy of being called beggars, fell on me. Or perhaps they became beggars because they were degenerates.
“What? Never seen a handsome man before?”
The conflict between the Clean Clothes and Dirty Clothes Factions was quite old. But did that mean it couldn't be reversed? No, that wasn't it.
‘If something is wrong, it needs to be fixed.’
They say no flower blooms for ten days. It means that once something has flourished, it is bound to wither soon after.
Unfortunately, the same was true for the Beggars' Sect. They bickered amongst themselves in peacetime, only to be spectacularly destroyed the moment war broke out.
No, perhaps the golden age of the Beggars' Sect only arrived after its ruin.
When the world is full of beggars, what else could you call it but a golden age?
The Clean Clothes Faction beggar, who had been fighting so dirtily on the stage, spat on the ground. He was ugly to begin with, and his actions were just as foul, which didn't exactly improve my mood.
“Not even you cannot interfere in our fight.”
“Why not? I don’t want to stay out. I’m going to interfere. What right do you have to tell me what to do?”
“Hah, this is not a problem that can be solved by you, who belongs to neither the Clean nor the Dirty Faction. It must be hard to endure with that rotten personality of yours, but what can you do?”
Is that so?
A laugh escaped me as I looked at the Four-Knot Beggar who, despite being a beggar, was so formal.
To think that the prestige of the Beggars' Sect, a pillar of the Nine Great Sects and One Union, had fallen this far.
I didn't know in the past. I was too focused on myself. And I left the Beggars' Sect not long after the Sect Leader, my benefactor and master, died.
A Four-Knot Beggar talking back to an Eight-Knot Beggar. Even beggars have lines they shouldn't cross. Especially members of the Beggars' Sect, who should have a sense of responsibility, but these bastards had none.
“How is this any different from the conniving Unorthodox Faction?”
Not all beggars in the world are bad. No one becomes a beggar by choice. The reason for the Beggars' Sect’s existence is to protect those who have fallen to the lowest of lows, each for their own reasons.
Why did I return to the past? I had thought about it continuously on my way here, but I couldn't find an answer. But now, it was slowly becoming clearer.
‘Do I even need to think of a reason?’
Whoever sent me to the past, I don't need to worry about it. If they wanted something, they should have come to me directly. So, I'm going to live as I please.
“What are you looking at?”
I stared at the flounder-like face of the Four-Knot Beggar. Though his clothes were clean, the middle-aged beggar’s face was caked with hardship as he scowled.
He was remarkably ugly. A bottom-feeder who felt no hesitation in killing people...
‘I have no need for scum like this.’
Even if they were bottom-feeders, beggars who felt no guilt in hurting others were not the kind of members I wanted in my Beggars' Sect.
“Four-Knot Beggar, what’s your name? Did you not learn to respect your elders? Where does a young punk like you get off talking back to me?”
The Four-Knot Beggar, who should have flinched, instead held his head high.
“I am older than you, junior.”
“Oh, is that right? It must be nice being so old.”
For a moment, I confused my age with my past life. Right now, I am only in my thirties.
The Four-Knot Beggar smirked and twirled his sword. Guys like him always had someone backing them. Usually, the fate of these unlucky bastards was to act tough relying on their backer, only to get beaten down by me.
“The Sect Leader has already fallen from power, and Elder Hwa has extended his reach not only throughout Beijing but all over the world. This one, as Elder Hwa’s direct disciple, will soon become the next Sect Leader.”
*Tug.*
That was the sound of Eung-sam pulling on my collar. Thankfully, he had stopped me just as I was about to lose my temper and lunge forward.
“Besides, for what it’s worth, this one is among the top 30 most renowned minds in the Beggars' Sect. When Elder Hwa becomes the Sect Leader, I am a man who could easily secure a Seven-Knot position.”
It’s ‘brilliant,’ not ‘renowned.’ These ignorant beggar bastards. Eung-sam gave an awkward smile and stepped in front of me.
“Hey, now. Senior Brother Baek-hae said that if you’re not an animal, you should know how to be patient. Do you want me to see that handsome face of yours get all twisted up again?”
—Well, I suppose even you can get angry, Senior Brother. You’re only human. When that happens, just count to three in your head. That’s all! I’m not asking for much. If you’re not a beast, you can hold back, can’t you?
An old memory surfaced for a moment. I let out a small laugh and began to count in my head.
‘*Hoo*, one. Two. And…’
“Besides, he can’t do anything because of the Sect Leader. Even the Elders of the Five Elements are divided between the Dirty and Clean Factions. The Sect Leader couldn’t stop us even if he came here himself. In the first place, the current Sect Leader is just a scarecrow…………”
“You motherfucker.”
The moment I took a step forward, an ugly face was right in front of mine. His rapidly dilating pupils were proof of the flounder’s shock.
He reflexively thrust his sword at my neck, and I caught his blade with my middle and index fingers and broke it.
“The Bare-Handed Blade Catch! How did you catch my sword?”
Did he really think I would patiently endure his provocations? What a moronic thought.
‘In the past, I might have barely held back for the Sect Leader’s sake.’
Unfortunately for him, in this life or the last, I was not a patient man. I would no longer avoid troublesome matters for the Sect Leader’s sake.
The moment I heard his astonished cry, I grabbed his head and slammed it into the ground.
*CRACK!*
Blood gushed from the head of the man who had broken through the stone floor of the sparring stage. The sticky sensation of his blood wouldn't leave my hand.
“How dare a crazy bastard like you insult the Sect Leader with that filthy mouth? You were asking to die.”
Who the hell are you to insult my benefactor? I'd raise hell even if it were Baek Cheon.
“Hey, seriously! I told you to calm down! Didn't I just tell you? Senior Brother, do you know who that flounder is?”
It was Eung-sam, who had somehow caught up to my side. I would have handled it myself, so I don't know what he was in such a rush for.
“How should I know? Ha, so you think he looks like a flounder too? Great minds think alike. Does that mean you hate Elder Hwa too?”
Watching me casually dust off my hands, Eung-sam pounded his chest in frustration and said.
“That flounder is Elder Hwa's most cherished disciple!”
“He has... unique tastes. Wow, don't tell me he's into men? Man, if the mermen found out a Beggars' Sect Elder's ideal type was a fish, they'd rip their own faces off in shame.”
“Shh! Are you trying to make a mortal enemy of Elder Hwa? If he finds out you ignored his summons and caused this ruckus, you're finished!”
Thud.
The moment Eung-sam finished speaking, footsteps arrived first. Footsteps imbued with internal energy. For better or worse, both he and I loved being the center of attention.
‘He got here early.’
A diligent beggar. The words were a complete contradiction, but the man approaching me was living proof.
“What grudge do you hold that makes you so intent on making an enemy of me?”
An old man with salt-and-pepper hair, dressed in a white robe fit for a young master of a prestigious family, was slowly walking over.
‘The son of a bitch who sold out the Beggars' Sect.’
It was Elder Hwa.
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